Escape
by An Elf and a Space Pirate
Summary: Two original characters, both running from their pasts. Along the way they meet on a pirate ship called the Black Pearl, fall in and out of love, and face plenty of danger and adventure before they finally have to face what they are trying to escape.
1. Chapter 1

_4 years ago_

Dear future reader,

You do not know me, and I do not know you. I do not even know why I am writing, except that I must tell somebody, and to say these things out loud would mean certain exile, imprisonment, and death.

My name is Wesley Silverthorn. I come from a wealthy, yet disreputable family. My father is lazy and does no work, living off the fortune he inherited from his father, as did his father before him. He cares nothing for anybody, only for himself and the fortune, and he trains his children to be the same way. My older brother was always the favorite, following in my father's footsteps, a greedy miser, having no ambitions but to inherit the fortune when my father dies. And so my family has earned a reputation for being cruel, greedy, and uncaring, and as I have the misfortune of bearing the family name, the reputation falls onto me as well.

So I have lived for seventeen years, caring nothing for the fortune, wanting only to escape the bad reputation the family name places on me. I have watched my father laugh at poor beggars who ask him for just a shilling. I have seen my brother torment young starving children who ask for just a loaf of bread, knowing that I can never escape the hostility of the townspeople.

Yesterday began as any other day. The sun rose. I went out early to take a walk before anyone else was awake to throw rotten fruit at me. I had barely reached the first corner past our house, when I heard angry shouting that sounded suspiciously like my brother's voice. I went to go see what was going on, and I found my brother in the act of beating an old man and shouting about constantly being bothered by the old and stupid who cannot fend for themselves. I intervened, throwing my brother off the old man and into the wall of a nearby building. I heard a crack and saw blood coming from his head as he slumped to the ground at my feet.

I panicked, not taking the time to find out whether he was dead. I ran and hid just outside the city and waited. It didn't take long for me to hear the news that the oldest Silverthorn boy was found dead, and his brother had gone missing. I was suspected to have murdered my brother in order to become heir to the fortune.

Now I am on the run, a wanted man. My father has money, enough money to fund a full-out search for me. I am no longer safe in England. Everyone knows my name, and it does not help that my features are so distinguishing. My right eye is blue, the other is green. I cannot stay here. My only hope is to sail across the Atlantic under a false name and pray that I will not be arrested the moment I reach the Caribbean.


	2. Chapter 2

Seagulls screaming, smelly fish being thrown into barrels.

Were all ports this noisy and smelly? Elle remembered when they arrived in Port Royal five years past, and she certainly did not remember all of this. She scanned the ships that were docked along the shore. Most were merchant ships, trunks and boxes of goods were flowing off of them. One ship, however, stood out among them. A large, looming ship that many people were avoiding stood anchored at the end of the row. She looked up at the flag waving from the top mast.

Pirates. Exactly what she was looking for.

Ever since she had been a girl in Ireland, Elle had loved to learn about the most feared people of the High Seas. They fascinated her to no end, and she learned everything she could about them. That was why she had decided, after four years of wandering the streets and going hungry for days, to join them. She looked past the homicidal tendencies and drunken misgivings, all she saw was a chance to be accepted and fed, in exchange for simple chores of course. Swab the deck here and there, mend a few sails, and steal some gold. She was even prepared for a slight skirmish or two with another ship. How hard could it be?

But now, as she took solemn steps nearing the ship, her own instincts told her to run. They told her to get away and find a safe place.

"What safe place?" She thought. She had nowhere to go.

She was finally close enough to read the name on the side of the worn ship.

"The Black Pearl," she said out loud to herself.

"What you be wantin' sir?" The coarse voice startled her, she racked her mind to remember why he was calling her sir. That's right, her disguise. With her brown hair pulled back into the usual style of young English lads, she looked quite the part of a man. She had found her brother's old trousers and a worn shirt from the belongings he had left behind.

"I don't have all day, sir," the man said. She looked at the somewhat short man, trying to form an answer in her mind.

"Would you be wantin' work?" He said. "The captain is looking for some fresh meat." He gave a raucous laugh at this comment.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, don't scare the poor man," a man with tanned skin and brown eyes said, stepping of the ship's gang plank.

"Aw, Will, I was just having me fun," he turned back to Elle, "I really meant it though, would you be wantin' some work?"

Elle gave a nod as best she could, finding that her voice was paralyzed.

"Alright then, follow me," the man, Gibbs, turned around and Elle stepped forward to follow him. Will gave her a friendly nod before setting off into the direction of the city.

The stench of dirty clothes and sweaty skin hit her like a wall. The ship was relatively clean, but the people on it looked appalling. The man led her through a series of hallways that passed under the ship until they reached a large door entering into what Elle was sure was a larger room.

The man pushed open the door to reveal a study with a good sized desk in the middle. A man with a red head wrap and beaded ropes dangling from it sat behind it. With one hand, he scribbled furiously with a feather quill, with the other, he held a bottom of rum, taking hearty swigs here and there.

"Gibbs, I thought I told you I was trying to write a letter…"

"Yes, Captain, but I might have a new member for the crew."

Jack's eyes lit up and he looked over to where Elle stood nervously.

"That it then?" He said, his voice slurred.

"He's a right healthy lad by his looks," he said.

"What's his name?"

"Well…what did you say your name was lad?"

"Ah, uh, Johnny Fowler," she said quickly. She cast her eyes down hoping he wouldn't see her anxious features.

"Can you fight?"

"Yes."

"Can you sweep?"

"Yes.

"Can you cook?"

"Reasonably well, sir."

"Welcome, Mr. Fowler, to the Black Pearl. Gibbs, I want you to get him a sword and pistol, then, set him to work on the main deck. No more interruptions! I need…complete silence…and more rum. Yes, more rum I think, that should do it," he finished his command and drained the bottle he was holding quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

Wesley walked along the docks, gazing at the various ships. Trading ships, cargo ships, and transport ships, not unlike the one he had sailed on in his flee from England four years ago. Nothing remarkable about any of them.

Except for that one on the end there...

Wesley walked a little faster until he reached the battered old ship with torn black sails that everyone seemed to be avoiding. It was an intruiging ship, really. Wesley couldn't help but wonder what it had been through to earn its battle scars. He looked the ship over, and as he glanced up at the mast, he noticed the black flag flying there. The Jolly Roger. This was a pirate ship.

Wesley felt his pulse quicken. Pirates had always fascinated him, and he had often wondered what it would be like to be a pirate, living a life of adventure, taking orders from no one, not even the Royal Navy. He stood in awe, staring up at the battered ship that seemed somehow glorious and majestic despite its scars.

"Lovely ship, isn't it?" someone said from behind him.

Wesley jumped and spun around; he hadn't heard anyone come up behind him. "Uh... yes," he said, looking at the relatively short man with graying hair on his head and in his beard. "It's a pirate ship, isn't it?" Wesley asked.

"Not just any pirate ship," the man said. "That, my boy, is the _Black Pearl_, the most feared pirate ship in the Caribbean."

Wesley's eyes widened, staring in awe, but then he frowned. "But if this is the most feared pirate ship, what is it doing just docked here in Port Royal? Why isn't the navy all over it?"

"Let's just say a member of the crew pulled a few favors with the governor's daughter."

Wesley nodded, still frowning in confusion.

"Say, boy, how old are ye?" the man asked.

"I'm twenty-one, sir," Wesley replied.

"Would ye be interested in some work?"

"Work? What kind of work?"

The man nodded towards the pirate ship. "That kind of work."

"You mean...?" Wesley turned and looked up at the ship. "You want _me_ to..."

"Aye. And this ain't a chance you'll get every day, lad. We usually don't just recruit off the streets, but we're short a few hands since a few of the crew went to the gallows."

Wesley hesitated. "The gallows?"

The man shrugged. "Occupational hazard, but not many people ever end up there, not unless they're stupid, foolish, or they make a mistake," the man said. "So, boy, what say you?"

"Well..." Wesley turned and looked at the pirate ship, the _Black Pearl_. It was a glorious ship. Beautiful, if you really looked at it. He remembered his wonderings about being a pirate, no rules, plenty of adventure, and no family fortune to worry about. Maybe this was his chance to finally get away.

Wesley turned and faced the man. "I'll do it."

The man grinned. "Good. I'm sure the captain will love to have you too."

"You're not the captain?"

"Me? No. I just handle the recruiting mostly," the man replied. "Follow me, I'll take you to the captain."

The man led Wesley onto the _Black Pearl_, and down to a room that Wesley took to be the captain's office. The man pushed the door open, revealing a small study. A man was sitting at a desk, holding a bottle of rum in one hand and a quill in the other. Wesley thought the man to be rather odd-looking, with his long dark hair full of beads, and his red bandana and dark eye shadow. Was this the captain?

"Captain Sparrow," said the man who had recruited Wesley.

The man behind the desk looked up. "Gibbs, you bloody fool, I thought I told ye not to bother me again!"

"Sorry, sir, but I've brought ye another new recruit."

The captain looked over at Wesley, apparently noticing him for the first time. "What's your name, son?"

"Wes—" Wesley started before he caught himself. "West," he quickly covered. "Sam West."

"Can you fight?"

"Well... I can learn."

"Can you work?"

"Of course I can."

"And most importantly," the captain said, looking intently into Wesley's eyes. "Can you follow orders in the face of danger and almost certain death? Can you stay true to the last?"

"I... I think I can."

The captain sat back in his chair. "Good then. Welcome aboard, mate. From now on you may address me as _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. Gibbs, set the man to work. We'll set sail as soon as dear Will returns."

* * *

We hope you like it so far. Send us a review and tell us what you think! 


	4. Chapter 4

"So," Gibbs began, "do you have much experience in swabbing decks?"

"Well, sir, I'm a fast learner," Sam said.

"There was a lad who came on this ship not long before you did. He goes by Fowler, and you'll be working along side 'im until the Captain or I sees fit. You're both learnin' still about the Black Pearl, so I assumes its best for you to be getting along well with each other."

They approached Elle who was vigorously wiping down the main deck with a sodden broom. She looked up as they stood in front of her.

"Fowler," she gave a nod, "this is West. Sam West, so he says, and he'll be working along side you for the day."

Gibbs walked away, eager to return to whatever he was doing before Wes showed up in front of the ship. Wes turned to look at his new ship mate. Fowler was tall, almost up to his height, and had a strange look about him.

"Hello," Wes ventured. She gave him a swift nod before returning to her work.

"There's another broom in the corner over there," she said, trying to keep her voice as low as possible to not give away her identity. "Ye can start as soon as ye get your bucket filled. There's a well not to far from the ship, a few boats down."

Wes eagerly picked up an empty bucket sitting next to the broom and headed off to where the well was.

"Fowler!" A pirate called from the riggings over head. "Who's your new friend?"

She looked up at the stocky, balding man she had met not too long ago hanging from the main mast line.

"He's Sam West! A new one!" She called back. "Don't know much about him, Pintel!"

He went back to work and she rested a moment on the broom she was using. She had only been working for a few hours, but already she had met at least three other pirates on board the Black Pearl. Pintel was one of them, he, along with Ragetti, had shown her where the well was. Another man, they called him Norrington or James, had introduced himself as she was working and she was surprised to see him wearing a battered and worn British Navy coat.

Wes soon found the well and thought of what his new life would be like. Sure, he was excited, but another part of him couldn't help but think what a rough life it would be. Storms, starvation, thirst, rival ships, and the ever growing British Navy were just a few of the things he knew happened to ships. His 'partner' he had been paired with didn't seem too personable. The heavy Irish accent he carried was unmistakably that of a Dublin native.

Hoisting the filled bucket over his shoulder, he set off back to the ship. He noticed a man walking beside him dressed in traveling clothes. He recognized the man a little, the wavy brown hair and tan skinned showed he was no stranger to outdoor work. When the man noticed him walking to the pirate ship same as him, he began to get curious.

"Did Gibbs pull you in too?" The man asked.

"Yes, well, I didn't exactly want to stay in Port Royal any longer," Wes answered carefully.

"Gibbs nearly scared to death another recruit, never caught his name, heavy Irish accent though."

"That's Fowler. I'm working with him. Not a very talkative man."

"He didn't seem to be when I met him. What's your name?"

"Sam West."

"Well, Sam, I'll be seeing you aboard then, eh? If you happen to catch Gibbs, tell him I'll be a little late, a few more minutes with Elizabeth wouldn't hurt," with that, the man nodded to him and turned to meet an elegant woman with a squirming baby in her arms.

He began to feel more at home when he stepped back on the ship. Fowler was still hard at work near the stern.

"Hey Fowler," Wes began, the man turned to look at him. "Do you have a first name?"

"Johnny. Johnny Fowler, but Fowler is easy to remember," he said gruffly, before returning right back to work.

Elle blushed as he picked up a broom and began to work along side her. She was going to have to get used to men all around her, there was nowhere else to go.

"Blast you Will! WHERE IN THE DEVIL'S NAME ARE YE!" Gibbs grating voice seemed to shake the ship for a moment.

Sam put his broom down abruptly.

"He said he'd be a little late, sir. Something about a few more minutes with Elizabeth," Sam said to him. Gibbs nodded, annoyed in the least, and disappeared below deck.

At the mention of the name Elizabeth, Wes couldn't help but notice the look in one Pirate's eyes. He had a worn British Navy cloak on.


	5. Chapter 5

Wesley had returned to the pirate ship and begun mopping the deck alongside the man called Johnny Fowler. Strange fellow, hardly talking, always keeping his hat low over his face. Wes couldn't help but wonder if he was also trying to make his face scarce.

And then there was that pirate in the old Navy uniform. There was something familiar about him, but Wes just couldn't seem to grasp it. He leaned over and asked Fowler, "That man over there, in the Navy coat, what's his name?"

Fowler glanced up, then quickly back down at the ground. "That's James. But mostly I hear him called Mr. Norrington. He doesn't talk much."

"Norrington?" Wes repeated, looking back up at the pirate in the Navy coat. "James Norrington?"

"Yes," Fowler said, actually looking up. "Why?"

Wes shook his head. Fowler went back to work. But Wes couldn't help gazing at the pirate in the Navy coat, and he could have sworn the pirate looked back at him.

"You, West!"

Wes jumped and turned around. Gibbs was standing behind him, frowning.

"Is that your definition of work, boy?" Gibbs asked. "Standin' around and gapin' at the crew?"

Wes looked down at the ground. "Uh... No, sir. Sorry, sir, I got distracted."

"Just be glad it was me who caught you and not the Captain," Gibbs said.

"Yes sir," Wes muttered, returning vigorously to his mopping.

"Don't worry about Gibbs," someone said from behind.

Wes turned around again, and was greeted by the smiling face of the man called Will.

"He's just trying to scare you. Don't mind him. He's really a good guy. A little superstitious maybe, but he's the best recruiter in the business," Will said. "And don't worry about the Captain either. He's a good man, and fair. A little odd sometimes... well, most of the time... but he's nothing to be scared of."

Wes managed a smile of thanks. He wanted to ask Will who this Elizabeth was that he wanted a few more minutes with, but Will walked away before Wes could work up the courage to ask.

Wes went back to mopping alongside the enigmatic Fowler, occasionally looking up at James, who was standing at the other end of the ship, apparently staring out over the ocean.

A few minutes later, Wes heard the Captain's voice shouting orders to various crewmen, evidently preparing the _Black Pearl_ to set sail. A while later, he was proved right. The great ship moved slowly out to sea.

The deck had soon been mopped as thoroughly as was humanly possible, and Wes and Fowler were free to do as they pleased. Fowler disappeared almost immediately, so with nothing better to do, Wes made his way over to James.

James looked up when he noticed Wes approaching. "Wesley Silverthorn," he said. "I thought I recognized you."

"That's what I'm always afraid of," Wes said. "Being recognized, especially by that name. It's Sam here. Sam West."

"Sam, then. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

Wes smiled slightly. "Ten years, I think."

"What have you been up to?"

Wes shrugged uncomfortably, his smile fading. "Nothing much. Trying to keep a low profile, mostly," he said evasively, not really wanting to talk about his atrocious deed. He looked over at James. "What about you? Last time I saw you, you were a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy. What are you doing on a pirate ship?"

"Long story," James said, sounding as evasive as Wes felt. "Let's just say I got tired of the expectations attached to the powdered wig."


	6. Chapter 6

Elle tried to mind her own business and not overhear West's conversation, but she couldn't help but hear a few words. Nothing of any importance to her. From the way they spoke, she noticed they probably knew each other. With one last nod to West, he headed off to his own business.

The sun was beginning to sink low on the horizon, casting orange rays across the sky. They had been at sea for over an hour, Port Royal already a small dot on the shore line. Elle quickly adapted to the rocking movement of the ship, pitching them back and forth on the choppy waves. Most of the pirates were heading below deck as the light was soon disappearing from the sky.

"Fowler, West," Gibbs called, walking towards them. "Cabin 45 is empty; you two will be sharing it. Dinner is served in an hour or so."

Elle hadn't thought of where she was going to sleep. How would she dress and undress without him seeing her? Cabins on ships weren't that spacious and usually gave no room to hide. Reluctantly, she put down her mop, dumped the remaining water in the bucket overboard, and walked towards the stairs leading below deck.

"Do you even know where cabin 45 is?" West's voice called. Defeated, she turned around to face him. He was already walking towards her.

"We should ask someone before we end up getting lost," he explained. Scanning the upper deck, he noticed Norrington still standing on the far side.

"Norrington!" West yelled. He lifted his head as he saw West walking towards him.

"Need something?" He asked, his voice still held the monotonous tone it had when he was a Commodore.

"Yes, do you happen to know where cabin 45 is?"

"At the very end of the hallway, the last one on the right."

"Thank you, sir."

He walked back to Elle, a smug look on his face.

"See? That wasn't hard. Now we won't get lost." Elle resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. She was already rankled by his personality, sharing a cabin with him wasn't going to be much better.

She was right. It wasn't big at all. It barely fit two medium-sized hammocks, one on each side. There was a trunk in the room as well, large enough to hold both occupants' possessions. That was it.

Elle immediately jumped into one of the hammocks, noticing right away that they weren't the most comfortable places to sleep. After a few moments, she soon realized that they weren't the most stable either. The hammock flipped around and deposited her on the hard floor.

She glared at West, who was leaning against the door frame barely able to contain his laughter.

"Does this amuse you?" She asked. "Let's see you get in one."

He confidently strode over to the other hammock and sat down. Swinging his legs up into it as well, he put his hands on the back of his head and stared at the low ceiling.

"See? Nothing to it. You just need to keep your balance and-" his own hammock now turned on him and he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor with a loud thud. Elle was now the one erupting in laughter.

Soon they both managed to get into the hammocks and stay in them without being overturned. There was silence except for the faint sound of the hooks on which the hammocks were hung on.

"So, where are you from?" He already knew the answer to this, but the quietness unnerved him.

"Dublin," came the voice from across the room.

"Ah. How old are you?"

"Nineteen last I counted."

"You seem like a quiet man from what I've seen of you, do you have any family left?"

Elle was beginning to tire of his questions.

"No one," she lied. Her brother was more like an enemy to her now, the one she was running from. He had hinted in one of his letters he would be visiting her.

"Well, I'll be going to the galley. Should be close to an hour by now," he said.

"Wait," she said. "You never answered your own questions. I answered them; I think you are entitled to the same."

He turned around, looking at her.

"I am twenty one."

She began to protest but he had already walked away. She could hear his steps echoing down the hall.

There was more to this man than she thought. He obviously didn't want her to know about his life or the people in it. With a sigh, she pulled herself from the hammock and headed towards the galley.


	7. Chapter 7

Dear future reader,

If you read my former letter, you know that I ran away from home, a fugitive, after killing my older brother. I have been a fugitive for four years now, living on the streets of Port Royal and other cities and towns surrounding it. I use what little money I can find or earn to buy food. If I have no money, I am forced to steal food so I can eat. My clothes are always torn and dirty, and I am forced to steal new ones from time to time.

My life has taken an interesting turn within the past day. I have joined a pirate ship. I was walking along the docks, and stopped to examine a pirate ship called the _Black Pearl_, when I met a member of the ship's crew and he asked me if I was looking for work. I am always looking for work, and considering that joining up with a pirate crew might be a good way to keep my father from finding me, I accepted the man's offer, joining the pirate ship under the name Sam West.

The Captain, I must say, is a strange man. He has long dark hair complete with dreadlocks and full of beads. He wears a red bandana around his head, and sometimes a battered dirty three-cornered hat. He doesn't look like any pirate captain I would imagine. He walks oddly, almost like he's half-drunk all the time. Talks that way, too, except when he's giving orders. He may be odd, but the crew members tell me he's the best captain in the entire ocean.

I've met a few members of the crew. There is a man called Will Turner who treats me real nicely, and I hear that he is good with a sword. I like him a lot, or at least what I have seen of him. I have only been on this ship for a day. The man, Gibbs, who recruited me seems odd too. I hear he is somewhat superstitious, and from what I have seen of him, he likes to order people around.

There is one member of the crew who is of particular interest to me, him being my cabin mate. His name is Johnny Fowler, but that is about all I know about him. He doesn't talk much, but when he does, his accent is Irish. Mostly he keeps his hat low over his face and keeps to himself. Strange fellow, not very friendly. Maybe he too is trying to make his profile scarce. I hope he will be more amiable as time goes on, though. It will be torture to share that cramped cabin with a man who never speaks.

Most interesting of all, though, is the presence of my old friend, Lieutenant James Norrington. Well, now I guess his proper rank is Commodore, or so it would be if he were still part of the navy. I was surprised to see him there, knowing his past hatred for any form of pirates and piracy. When I asked him about it, he gave me no explanation. I suppose it is only fair, though, as I gave him no explanation of my sudden appearance. I was not eager to tell him of my awful deed. He would despise me if only he knew what I was really like.

Being a pirate is not that bad, from what I've seen of it so far. Do a little mopping and scrubbing, but free passage to anywhere. The only thing that causes me pain is the intense heat. I am used to the cool temperatures of York, not the sweltering, scorching humidity of the Caribbean. I try to ignore it, as the other crew members would think me weak if I were to be conquered by a little heat, but I must admit I tire a lot faster out here in the sun, and I often find myself longing to jump overboard and relieve myself of the awful heat in the cool, refreshing water.

On the whole, though, my situation has improved greatly since joining the crew of the _Black Pearl_. I am now guarunteed three meals a day, and safe passage away from anyone who knows my true name.


	8. Chapter 8

Elle lay in the hammock listening to the scratching sound of West's quill. He sat on the floor with a small candle and wrote furiously on a battered piece of parchment.

"Who are you writing to?" She asked.

He seemed to debate on whether to answer her.

"No one in particular," he said finally, not looking up from his letter. She continued to watch him write, eyes following the feather quill moving back and forth across the parchment.

She wasn't usually a friendly person, but with nothing to do she decided, for one night, she would at least try to find out a little about this man West. He finished writing and folded up the letter. He opened the trunk and placed it on his side, next to the other clothes and items he had brought with him on the ship. Elle's clothes were in there as well, on her side of the trunk.

"Where are you from?" She asked. He leaned back into his hammock with a weary sigh.

"England." His abruptness surprised her. Earlier that day he had been eager to talk with her and find out about herself. Now, he seemed to want to avoid talking to her.

She watched him lean down and blow out the candle that was barely there. With the wax still wet, he was able to sweep it up with a rag. Darkness filled the cabin and she could barely make out West's form as he settled back into his hammock.

The gentle rocking of the ship seemed to have a soothing affect on her and she soon found herself falling asleep. Barely awake, she wondered what West was thinking about. It was then that she realized it was only after she began questioning him about his past that he became withdrawn. He definitely had secrets he didn't want to share. Elle was fine with this; she had secrets of her own to keep hidden.

The next morning she awoke to West shaking her roughly.

"Gibbs wants us up and ready on the main deck by sunup."

Groggily, she wiped her hair back from her face. Noticing West's unruly blonde locks falling in his face, she resisted the strong urge to brush them away. He was a mysterious cabin mate, no need to be getting _attached _to him in a romantic way.

She thought it considerate of West to wait for her as she slid on her shoes. They walked out into the hallway, already full of bustling pirates moving to the main deck.

The sun was barely peeking above the distant horizon as they stepped out on deck. The pirates were lined up along the side of the ship. Noticing where they were expected, she and West lined up along with them. Soon, the doors to the Captains quarters opened and Captain Jack Sparrow proudly stepped out onto the deck. Norrington, Will Turner, and Gibbs were lined up separately on the opposite side of where they stood.

"Men," he said strongly.

The pirates responded with a strong "Aye" and remained silent.

"We are directly south of Port Royal. I plan to dock in Tortuga for _one _night," he ignored the groans of disappointment and continued. "And from there, we will sail to Barbados. A few merchant traders and fellow fiends will come across our path. I plan to take every one of them, strip them of their goods, and continue. Is that understood?"

Another "Aye" resounded from the loyal pirates.

"You are dismissed." He turned on his heel and walked up onto the higher deck, taking his place and beginning to steer the ship.

Gibbs began shouting orders at them. Pintel and Ragetti were put to the crow's nest. Most were assigned to the riggings, making sure that they were right and ready to open and close depending on the wind currents.

"Fowler, West," they turned to accept to him. "Aye, I believe James will be educatin' you on the proper way to do a ship's riggings. After that, you'll join the rest of them in workin'."

Norrington began walking towards them. He showed them how to pull the ropes when Gibbs or the Captain said different things. They watched them for a while until they too were put to work on the sails.

As she worked, Elle blocked the sun out of her eyes and stared up at Pintel and Ragetti in the crow's nest. They were up a ways in that tiny box-like thing, able to see over the horizon farther than the rest of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Once again, Wesley found himself working alongside Fowler, who was silent, as usual. The sky was bright, clear blue, and the hot sun was high in the sky.

"Hot, isn't it?" Wes commented, during a welcome break from their work.

"Yes," Fowler agreed. "Very."

Wes leaned against the side of the ship and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I don't remember it ever being this hot back home." He glanced over at Fowler, still working, showing no signs of being bothered by the heat, even though he wore a large hat pulled low over his face. "What about you? I don't suppose Dublin ever gets this hot."

"No, but I have lived in the Caribbean for several years. I'm used to it," Fowler said, completing the longest speech Wes had ever heard him make.

"Lucky you," Wes muttered, shielding his eyes from the intense sunlight.

"Mister West," someone said from behind.

Wes turned and found himself facing the kind face of Will Turner. "Oh, hello," Wes said.

Will handed him a cup filled with cool water. "I thought you might need this. Looked like the heat was getting to you."

"Thanks," Wes said, gratefully drinking from the cup. "I'm not used to heat like this."

Will smiled with understanding.

Wes drained the water and handed the empty cup back to Will, feeling somewhat refreshed.

"The Captain says I'm to take you and Fowler here and teach you the basics of swordfighting," Will said. "Now, do either of you two know anything about swordfighting?"

Fowler shook his head.

"I've seen it done before," Wes supplied.

"It's very simple, once you get the hang of it," Will said. "We'll start with some footwork..."

Will went on to demonstrate the proper way to stand and move about. He had them do some drills advancing and retreating across the deck. Then he taught them the proper way to hold the sword, and had them repeat the drills while holding their weapons.

Wes did his best to pay attention and do everything right, but he couldn't ignore the heat. He wanted to ask for another drink of water, but didn't want to seem weak in front of Fowler, who didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat.

After what seemed like hours, Will brought the lesson to a close. "All right," Will said. "That's about enough for one day. You both did well. I'm impressed." Will gave them a friendly smile, and started to walk away, but he paused and turned back to the two newest recruits. "And just to warn you, we'll be docking in Tortuga tonight."

Wes exchanged glances with Fowler. "What's in Tortuga?" Wes asked.

"Let's just say it's not a friendly place for boys as young as yourselves."


	10. Chapter 10

Later that night, the _Black Pearl_ docked in the place called Tortuga. The sun had gone down long ago, and the air was cooler. Elle assumed West, her cabin mate, must be more comfortable. The pirates all seemed very pleased to have finally reached Tortuga, and were eager to get off the ship.

"Remember, gentlemen!" Captain Sparrow called as the crew hurried towards the city. "Only one night! We will be leaving at dawn tomorrow morning, so if you don't fancy being left behind, I suggest you make your return prompt!"

"I wouldn't mind being left here!" Ragetti muttered to Pintel.

"Yes, but that would be considered desertion, which is, in fact, punishable by execution," Captain Sparrow told him.

Ragetti flinched.

"You are free to go, gentlemen," the captain said.

The crew hurried off the ship towards the city, except for Ragetti and Pintel, who stayed behind, attempting to persuade the captain to let them stay one more night. Captain Sparrow listened to Pintel's pleas impassively for a few moments, then asked, "You are telling me that arrriving in Tortuga is the most pleasurable part of our voyages, correct?"

Pintel nodded eagerly, an expectant look on his face.

"Well then, how can we arrive if we never leave?" the captain said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." He stepped off the ship, leaving Pintel standing with a confused expression on his face.

Elle stepped off the ship, hesitantly looking around, wondering where to go next.

"Hey," someone called, from off to the side.

Elle turned, but saw no one. "Who's there?" she demanded.

West emerged from the shadows.

"Oh," Elle said, trying to keep the strong sense of relief from creeping into her voice. "It's you."

"Of course I'm me," West replied. "Who else would I be?"

"What are you doing here?"

West shrugged. "From what Mr.Turner tells us, I thought it might be a good idea for the two of us to stick together."

Elle shrugged. "All right." She wasn't about to admit it, but she was actually relieved not to be alone.

Elle and West headed into Tortuga.

"Nice place," West commented, raising his eyebrows as he took in the chaos of the city.

Brawls were breaking out left and right, drunkards staggered down the streets, drunken couples stood out in the open, kissing, laughing, and then scurrying into dark alleyways for more "fun".

"Lovely," Elle muttered, dodging a poorly aimed chunk of log flying in her direction.

"Careful," West said. "Maybe we should go inside."

Elle said nothing, she just followed West into a nearby tavern. The inside of the tavern was dim and crowded, and not much better than the streets, except that there were a lot more things to hide behind in case of flying chunks of log.

Elle followed West as he worked his way to the back of the tavern and sat down at a table.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, neither of them knowing where to look.

"So..." West said.

"So...?" Elle asked.

"So... What's a nice boy like you doing on a pirate ship?"

Elle frowned suspiciously.

"I mean, don't you have a family? Girlfriend? Third cousin twice removed? Anyone?"

"No, nobody," Elle answered, assuming it would be safe to tell at least that much. "My parents are dead. And my brother..."

"You have a brother?"

"Yes," Elle said. "What about you? Any family?"

West seemed to hesitate. "None to speak of." He grinned. "We _do_ have a lot in common, don't we?"

Elle pulled her hat down over her face.

Suddenly, a man staggered over to where they were sitting.

"Hey," the man said in a threatening, gravelly voice. "You're sitting at my table. Move."

"He's drunk, West," Elle cried. "Don't make him mad."

"Excuse me, but we were here first, sir," West said, as politely as he could.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me," the man said, glaring down at West. "I said, move." He reached down and overturned the table, then grabbed West by the shirt collar and jerked him into a standing position. "You still wanna make somethin' of it?"

"Look, sir, I'm not looking for trouble..."

"Well, it looks like you've just found some." The man raised his fists and faced West. "Come on, boy, put 'em up."

"How about if we just leave, all right? We don't want any—"

The man swung his fist at West's head, but West ducked. The man swung again, and West dodged. "What's the matter?" the man taunted. "Afraid to fight?" He grabbed West by the collar, and raised his hand to strike him across the face, when someone intervened, grabbing the man's wrist.

"That's not very nice," said the voice of Captain Sparrow.

Elle, who had been anxiously watching West, turned, and saw the Captain standing there, holding the arm of the attacker from striking West, a dangerous look on his face.

"Let the boy go," Sparrow commanded.

The man's grip loosened, and West stepped back.

"And now, if you will please refrain from harming members of my crew, I will let you be on your way." Sparrow released the man's arm, and the man walked away, turning occasionally to glare at West over his shoulder. Sparrow walked over to where Elle and West stood.

"Thank you, sir," West said.

"You both are uninjured, I trust?" Sparrow asked.

"We're fine," West replied.

"Good," Sparrow said. "I would suggest that you two make your way back to the ship for the night. This is not a very friendly place for young boys such as yourselves."

West nodded. He turned to go, and Elle followed him. When Elle glanced back over her shoulder, the Captain seemed to have disappeared.

* * *

We know this story's a little unconventional as far as fanfiction goes, as our story centers around two original characters. But reviews are always appreciated, and we'd like to know what you think! 


	11. Chapter 11

Wesley slept well after returning to the _Black Pearl_. He woke up early the next morning, and went to join the rest of the crew on deck. They were all lined up like they had been the day before, but Wes could tell that most of them seemed to be suffering from hangovers, the only exceptions being himself and his cabin mate, along with Norrington, Will Turner, and Captain Sparrow himself.

"Well, gentlemen," the Captain said. "I trust you all enjoyed yourselves last night."

The only response was a collective groan coming from the crew members.

Captain Sparrow frowned at the response. "What's the matter, men? Didn't you have any fun?"

"A little too much fun, I think," Gibbs called.

"Ah. I see," the Captain said. "Well, having been properly warned by your Captain, you men can blame no one but yourselves for your current state of being. You will be required to function today the same as any other day."

Another groan from the crew.

"We are planning a raid tonight," Sparrow continued. "I have been informed of a wealthy trading ship sailing just about a day from here. If we make good time, we should reach there just after dark. I will need every man at his best for tonight. Now, back to work!"

The crew dispersed to their various jobs, groaning and mumbling among themselves.

Will Turner caught up with Wes and Fowler as the crew was leaving. "Fowler, West, you'll will be with me again this morning. You two need some more work on your swordfighting."

Wes stifled a groan. He had been hoping to sit in the shade somewhere and repair sails. Now he was going to have to be in the hot sun.

But Wes did as he was told, working hard to get the sword to do what he wanted, even in the heat.

"Good, West, that's exactly right!" Will told him. "You're a natural!"

Wes didn't respond, he was too busy trying to breathe and stay upright at the same time. It was so hot.

Will must have noticed that Wes was struggling, because he said, "All right, let's take a break for a few minutes."

Wes gratefully sat down against the side of the ship. Will brought him and Fowler each a cup of cool water. "Are you all right?" he asked Wes.

Wes nodded.

"I know it's hot, but do you think you can do a little more? We're going to need you during the raid tonight."

"I'm fine," Wes lied, standing up.

Will gave him a smile. "All right, let's see how you two do fighting against me. Fowler, you can go first."

Fowler faced Will, a determined expression on his face.

"Don't worry about hurting me," Will told him. "I won't let you run me through. I once beat Captain Sparrow, you know."

"Did not!" the Captain yelled, from somewhere above.

"You cheated!" Will threw over his shoulder. Then he turned and faced Fowler. "Ready?"

Fowler nodded.

"Go."

Fowler lunged forward to attack Will, but Will parried.

Wes leaned against the side of the ship and closed his eyes. The heat was giving him a headache and making him dizzy. He heard the clashing of metal against metal as Fowler fought against Will, and soon he heard Will say, "Touch. You're dead."

Wes opened his eyes. Fowler had his blade raised in mid-attack, and Will had his blade leaned against Fowler's neck.

"Good job, though," Will said. "You almost had me once or twice."

Fowler grinned, and stepped back.

Will turned to Wes. "All right, your turn."

Wes wiped the sweat off his face and walked over to face Will.

"All right, West, are you ready?" Will asked.

Wes nodded.

"Go."

Wes lunged, but used a different attack than what Fowler had used. Will was still easily able to parry, and came back with an attack of his own. Wes managed to block, though his head was spinning and he felt the sun's rays beating down on him. Wes attacked again, breathing hard, but Will parried again. Wes felt like he was going to throw up. He wished the sun would go away. Will attacked again, and this time Wes's block missed. Will's blade came to rest against Wes's left shoulder.

The slight pressure didn't hurt, but Wes fell anyway. He collapsed to the deck of the ship, lying on his back and breathing hard. His head was still spinning.

"West!" Will cried, dropping his sword and leaning over Wes. "West, are you all right? Speak to me."

Wes managed a groan.

Will looked up. "Fowler, go get some cold water," he ordered. He looked back down at Wes. "I'm sorry," he said. "This is all my fault. I didn't realize you were this bad."

Wes closed his eyes.

Fowler returned, handing Will a jug of water and a cup. Will filled the cup and helped Wes drink several cupfuls of the cool, refreshing water.

"Feel better?" Will asked, a look of concern on his face.

Wes nodded. "A little."

"What's all the excitement?" Captain Sparrow's voice asked.

Wes looked up, and saw the Captain approaching. Not wanting the Captain to see him looking so weak, Wes managed to sit up against the side of the ship.

"West got a little too much sun," Will told the Captain. "Partially my fault, I think. I knew he didn't do well in the heat, and I shouldn't have worked him so hard."

Captain Sparrow stood in front of Wes and looked down at him, frowning. He reached down and took Wes by the wrist, and pulled him into a standing position. Wes reached out with his free hand and held onto the edge of the ship, knowing that and the Captain's strong grip were the only things keeping him from collapsing again.

Sparrow looked Wes over, his expression a half-frown that Wes couldn't decipher. He hoped the Captain wasn't displeased with him. But as Sparrow looked back into Wes's face, Wes thought he detected concern in his Captain's eyes.

Then the Captain turned away and spoke to Will, "Bring this man down to his cabin and let him rest. We'll need him for the raid tonight."

"Aye, sir," Will replied, putting Wes's arm over his shoulder. "Fowler, bring that water jug." Will brought Wes back down to his cabin and helped him lie down on his hammock. "Will you be all right here?" Will asked, still looking concerned. "I can stay with you."

"I'll stay with him," Fowler volunteered.

Will hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Fowler nodded. "You probably have things to do. I can stay here."

"All right," Will said. "If you need anything, find me." He turned and left the cabin.

Fowler moved over next to Wes and leaned over him. "Do you want more water?" he asked, then helped Wes drink from the water jug.

"Thank you," Wes said, lying back down. He looked up at Fowler, and saw his eyes full of concern and compassion. It startled Wes, to see his usually silent and enigmatic cabin mate looking at him with so much care. "I'll be all right," Wes told him. "Really. I just need to rest for a while."

Fowler smiled slightly and moved over to his own hammock. "I'll be here if you need anything."

Wes nodded and closed his eyes.

* * *

_Oh great,_ Elle thought, sitting on her own hammock and watching her cabin mate sleep. _The last thing I need is a romantic attachment to him._ But she couldn't stop staring as he drifted off to sleep... 


	12. Chapter 12

The silence covered them in the small cabin. Elle continually told herself the same thing over and over. _Look away, look away. _Her eyes fell to his blonde locks and once again she found herself feeling an even stronger urge to move them off of his face. His chest rose and fell slowly as she listened to his soft breathing.

Finally, with all her will power, she wrenched her eyes away and up to look at the wood ceiling above her. Faintly, she could hear waves crashing and footsteps overhead as the other pirates worked. She had seen a few dark clouds before she had retreated below with West, so she figured there might be a light drizzle when night came, along with the raid. The raid. All her thoughts now focused upon the one thing the whole crew was now waiting for.

She had heard there would be a lot of noise, firing of guns and cannons from either side most likely. Bullets were said to fly every where you looked. If you were lucky, you gained the upper hand fast and boarded the opposing ship. If not, well, they boarded you. Once one ship boarded the other, the real fighting began.

You would pull out your sword and hope for the best, at least which was how Gibbs had explained it. Will Turner had however explained that if a ship had decent fighting men and a good position, there was hardly anyway they were going to lose. He had seen more then she had, so she had no reason to not believe him. He was an excellent swordsman, teaching them well. She had already known the basic moves, as well had West, but the more intricate and detailed moves were what had stunned her. Little things, along with larger moves, were what won the fight.

She looked back over at West as he shifted in his sleep, eventually bringing himself to a sitting position.

"Do you need something?" She asked him.

"I am fine, I guess the heat just got to me a little after so much time out there," he answered groggily.

"Happens to everyone now and then. I remember when we first moved to the Caribbean, I was working with my father out in the fields," she paused and turned away from West, not letting him see an escaping tear. Her father, how she missed him. West gave her a strange look as she continued.

"He was a few rows away from me, inspecting a damaged sugar cane plant. I stood with my head bowed, looking at the dry ground. It was so hot that day; I had been feeling warm since the sun had even risen. I took a step towards him as he stood up, turning to look at me. I remember him calling my name as I felt myself falling forwards into the row of sugar plants."

She looked over to see West still watching her, listening intently.

"I don't remember much after that other than the fact that I woke up six hours later in my own bed," she finished.

Suddenly, they heard yelling and scurrying people overhead. Gibbs came clamoring through their door, sweating from the exertion.

"Up, mates, we be getting' along the side of that Merchant ship Jack be talkin' about. You'll need your sword and pistol that much I'm sure of. Hurry lads!"

"Are you okay to fight?" She asked West. He gave a steady nod, already reaching for his weapons. She quickly picked up hers and they headed up to the main deck together.

The pirates were already lined up menacingly along the side of the ship, looking out to the merchant ship they were quickly approaching. Elle and West soon joined them and they pulled out their pistols.

Captain Sparrow stepped out onto the main deck and jumped up onto the side of the ship as they came up parallel with the other ship.

"What ye be doing to my ship?!" The captain from the other side yelled, coming into view. "This cargo is bound for Jamaica and I aim to get it there. Off with ye, dirty pirates, I need no delays in my delivery."

"Are you prepared to fight for your precious cargo, my dear man?" Sparrow answered in his drawl. "Because we aim to get it from you."

"Men!" The other captain yelled to his sailors. "Show these pirates our way of saying goodbye!"

Rain began drizzling from overhead and off into the distance they could see lighting flashing.

"Good luck," West said, turning to face her.

"I wish you the same," she replied. Looking at the other ship, she began to feel fear creeping into her slightly at the sight of them. Some of them were quite big.

"Cock the pistols!" Jack yelled. At once, clicks were heard along the row of pirates, breaking through the sound of the sea.

"Fire!" He yelled. Bombs seemed to be exploding right in her ear when they all pulled the triggers. Some men fell to the deck as the volley of bullets hit them. They all tried to cock them again before the other ship had time to fire upon them.

The bullets went back and forth for a quarter of an hour before Captain Sparrow gave the signal to board them. Reaching for a rope, and seeing West reach for one right beside her, she picked up her feet and swung across the gap between the ships before landing with a soft thud on the opposing main deck. Silently, swords were drawn.


	13. Chapter 13

Wesley swung over to the merchant ship. He landed on the deck, stumbling slightly as he released the rope, but regaining his balance immediately as he saw a sailor coming towards him with a sword. Wes drew his own sword and faced the sailor, hoping Will had taught him enough.

Wes fought alongside Fowler, though he doubted the two of them were doing any good besides making two less sailors for the other pirates to deal with. He was barely aware of the fighting going on around him, he just tried to keep from being impaled or decapitated.

Wes risked a glance to his left. Fowler seemed to be struggling, and he looked slightly panicked. Wes wanted to help, but he had problems of his own.

Suddenly, there was an explosion, then a loud cracking sound coming from overhead. Wes looked up in time to see the merchant ship's mast falling towards him. He swung his sword at the sailor one last time, then dropped to the ground and rolled to his left, just as the mast crashed down to the deck, right where he had been standing moments before.

Wes stood up next to Fowler, who was still struggling to keep his opponent at bay. Wes took the sailor by surprise, killing him with a single thrust.

"Thanks," Fowler said, breathlessly. "I thought he had me."

"I've never killed a man before," Wes said, feeling slightly sick at the sight of the sailor's blood on his sword.

"Better him than us," Fowler replied. He took Wes's sword and wiped it clean on the dead sailor's coat. "Come on, I think the rest of the crew has found the gold."

Wes sheathed his sword, and sure enough, the rest of the crew had found the ship's cargo bay, and were now taking as much as they could carry back to the _Black Pearl_.

Wes and Fowler went over to help, and were handed several sacks of gold.

Fowler cried out, nearly dropping his sack.

"What is it?" Wes asked.

"Gold is heavy," Fowler said.

"Yes. Surprisingly so. Need any help?"

"I can carry it," Fowler snapped, startling Wes.

The two cabin mates carried the riches to the pirate ship, and then were sent back to help bring the rest of the treasure. After making several trips, Captain Sparrow finally announced that the merchant ship had nothing more to offer. He sent the pirates back to the _Black Pearl_, and shook hands with the captain of the merchant ship.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Captain Sparrow said, grinning.

"Bloody pirates!" the merchant captain spat, yanking his hand out of the pirate's grasp. "Ye all deserve to hang!"

Sparrow only chuckled. "Just makin' me living, same as you."

As soon as Captain Sparrow returned to the _Black Pearl_, the plunder was brought below decks, and the pirate ship began to sail away from the crippled merchant ship. Wes was surprised by the ship's speed. Within minutes, the merchant ship was only a dot on the horizon.

The crew was in a celebratory mood. Captain Sparrow passed around bottles of rum, and the crew wasted no time in getting themselves drunk senseless. Only Wes and Fowler, along with Will and Norrington, remained relatively sober.

It was after midnight when Will finally suggested that Wes and Fowler go back to their cabin and get some sleep. The pair didn't protest much; they were both worn out, especially Wes who was still recovering from his heat sickness.

Even as he went into the cabin and fell asleep in his hammoc, Wes could still hear the crew singing up on deck, led in song by Captain Sparrow.

_"We're devils, we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs. Drink up me hearties yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..."_

* * *

Reviews are always much appreciated! 


	14. Chapter 14

Elle collapsed into her hammock, letting out a weary sigh. West was not far behind her, sitting in his own hammock while wiping the sweat and dirt that had gathered on his face.

"Nice fighting out there," Elle looked up to see West giving her an appraising look.

"You as well," she answered back. He moved to pull a new shirt out of the chest, stripping himself of his old one.

"I didn't think I was ready for that," came his muffled voice as the shirt slid over his head. "But I made it through."

Elle blushed as he made the change of clothes and turned to face the wall of the cabin. She hadn't thought of how she was going change her clothes. Perhaps when he was gone? Gone where? To the Privy? To the galley?

"When do you think we'll be hitting the next ship, eh?" West asked, thankfully now fully clothed.

"I have no idea, but I hope no time soon. I need time to rest after the first one."

Silence.

"I think I'll go and find Norrington, I want to speak with him," West said. Elle nodded, hoping the relief was not evident in her features. He left, leaving a peculiar scent of sea and sweat mixed together wafting after him.

Elle pulled her weary body up, ignoring the muscles screaming in pain after being in use too long. Pulling out a new pair of trousers and a clean shirt, she cast one last glance around her before pulling the sweat drenched shirt off of her body. Her pants had been splattered with blood, spots of dark red covering most of her thighs. She sighed, wondering what her parents would think of her. Especially her Father.

Ignoring all the protests of wanting to rest some more, she decided to head down to the galley and get something to drink. While on her way, she began to overhear a conversation.

"…we couldn't take them. They're only a passenger ship." It sounded like Turner's voice.

"Nonsense, we can at least check, there doesn't have to be any casualties." That was the Captain's voice.

"I don't know Jack; we just sacked one of the most prestigious Merchant ships in the Caribbean. What would a small passenger ship from London hold for us?"

"To gain passage to Port Royal from London costs a hefty price, does it not?"

Elle could almost hear Will Turner nod, but she knew how much it was anyways, having sailed on one when she was 14.

"People with that kind of money aren't going to be walking around in rags and traveling with bare necessities. They'll have jewels and watches and rich silk most likely, am I right?"

"Alright Jack, but after that, we should begin to lie low. Stock up on some rations, prepare ourselves for a while at sea."

Sparrow grudgingly accepted.

------------

Wes thought idly of what the enigmatic cabin mate of his was doing. Norrington had told him to keep his secret quiet for now, to refrain from telling anyone, even his cabin mate Fowler. He knew that Fowler suspected something about him.

Turning the corner, Wes found himself looking at Fowler crouched behind a barrel, obviously listening for something. Looking closer, he saw Captain Sparrow and Will Turner engaged in a heated conversation.

"What are you doing?" He hissed, moving closer. Fowler's hand reached out and pulled him to the ground.

"Quiet!" He whispered. He gave Fowler a curious look. Soon after, Will and Jack left.

"Why were you listening to them? Were you spying on them?" He asked.

"I was curious, they were talking of ambushing another ship, a passenger ship from London," Fowler replied.

"A passenger ship? Those carry people, not goods."

Fowler shrugged.

"Let's get back to the cabin before someone sees us," Fowler said.

"So, what's this about ambushing a passenger ship?" Wes asked him again.

"The captain explained that the passengers were very wealthy, they would be carrying valuables like jewelry and such," Fowler explained.

Now Wes understood. They would be robbing the passengers and stripping the valuables right off them.

"The captain mentioned that there would be no casualties."

"Men!" Gibbs coarse voice yelled. The captain had just sighted the small but rich looking ship heading towards them on the horizon.

"There will be no killing or shooting of the like! We board only to steal, not harm," Gibbs continued. "If you are met with resistance, use only slight intimidation. Most are likely to be women," many men grumbled at this, "so try to be gentle in the least."

The ship was almost against them, Sparrow steered the ship into a path right along the smaller vessel.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the fine establishment they call London," Captain Sparrow began. "We have come to strip you of your small goods."

Women began to scurry below deck, screaming in fear. The few men on board looked around for an escape as well.

"Just as I thought," Jack whispered to Will, who stood beside him. "The pompous, arrogant fools are all cowards."

"Except that one," Will pointed out. One man stood proud and tall in the middle of the ship. Drawing a pistol, he bravely aimed it at them.

"There will be no stealing or harming of the like on this ship!" He shouted at them. His voice held a familiar Irish accent…

Wes heard Fowler gasp beside him. He turned to look at him, but Fowler had already masked his features.

"You man, the Irish one, you are brave to be challenging us like this. What is your purpose for traveling to Port Royal?" The captain began to question him.

"I am visiting me sister; we were orphaned four years ago. She is staying with a distant relative; I have come to get her."

-------------

Elle forced the unshed tears down. Looking away from her brother, she concentrated on the black Pirate flag waving above them in the wind. She knew West probably suspected something.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you just hand over the nice shiny pistol, and I'll be letting you and your ship go," the Captain offered.

"That's it?" Her brother said in disbelief.

"I have taken pity, something I rarely do, on your ship. If you please," the captain prompted, willing a name from him.

"O'Brien."

"Mr. O'Brien," he said. She watched with painful eyes as he threw the gun across the gap between the ships. It landed with a soft thud a few feet in front of Captain Sparrow.

"Thank you. Hoist the sails, head out!"

"Jack, I don't believe it," Will told him. "You're changing."

"No I'm not!" He pulled a bottle of rum out of his shirt. "I don't think we would have gotten that much out of them anyways."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated, as we are eager to know what you think of our story so far.


	15. Chapter 15

Wesley woke up early the next morning, and went to wander around on deck. He gazed out at the sky, and almost didn't notice when Will came up behind him.

"How are you feeling?" Will asked.

"All right," Wes replied. "A lot better."

Will smiled. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

They gazed out at the dark sky in silence for a few moments.

"Looks like rain," Wes commented.

Will looked out at the dark, ominous clouds. "Looks like more than rain, if you ask me. We'll probably hit a storm before nightfall," he said. "We'll need all the help we can get if that's the case."

Wes hoped not.

Will turned and left, and Wes was alone on deck for a while. He turned when he heard footsteps behind him, and saw Fowler.

"Hello," Wes said. "Good morning."

Fowler seemed to ignore him, and continued walking with his eyes on the ground and his hat pulled down low over his face.

"Hey, Fowler!" Wes called.

Still no response. Fowler seemed preoccupied.

Wes walked over and grabbed Fowler's shoulders. "Fowler!" he shouted.

Fowler looked up, startled.

"Why are you ignoring me?"

"I-I'm not ignoring you," Fowler stammered. "I didn't know you were there."

Wes put his hands down. "You're thinking about that man on the ship last night, aren't you?"

"Which man?"

Wes frowned. "You know which man. O'Brien."

Fowler shrugged. "So what if I'm thinking about him? I think he was very brave to stand up to the Captain like that."

"You know him, don't you?"

"No I don't."

"I'm not blind, Fowler. You recognized that O'Brien fellow."

Fowler didn't respond.

"Who is he?" Wes asked.

Fowler hesitated a moment before answering, "Someone who's not supposed to know I'm here."

* * *

Will's prediction had been accurate. As the day wore on, the sea grew rougher, and the wind picked up.

After a while, the rocking and tossing of the ship started to make Wes seasick. He wasn't the only one, either. At one point, while walking along the deck, Wes had caught Norrington throwing up over the side of the ship.

"Are you all right?" Wes had asked.

Norrington had looked up, slightly embarrased, and asked Wes not to tell anyone.

Later, having nothing better to do, Wes wandered down to his cabin. Fowler was already in the room, sitting on his hammock with his back to the door, but he turned to look when Wes entered the room.

"Hi," Wes said, sitting down on his own hammock facing his cabin mate.

Fowler didn't reply. Wes hadn't expected him to.

"I hope I didn't upset you earlier," Wes continued. "But I can't help feeling that you're not being completely honest."

"Who is?" Fowler asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone has secrets."

Wes didn't respond. Fowler was right, of course. Wes changed the subject. "There's a storm coming."

Fowler nodded.

"Will Turner says it should be here before nightfall."

Fowler nodded again.

"The waves are getting pretty rough out there," Wes said. "Most of the crew members are learning the firsthand definition of the word _seasick_."

Fowler almost smiled.

"Except for Captain Sparrow, of course," Wes continued. "In fact, I heard him complaining about 'pansy crewmen making a mess of his ship'."

This time, Fowler did smile.

"I guess it'll be a good thing if that storm gets here before nightfall. I would hate to be caught in a storm in the dark."

Fowler nodded.

Wes sighed, finally realizing that Fowler wasn't going to make conversation. He left the cabin and went back to wandering around on deck, gazing at the dark, ominous clouds that covered the sky. It was growing windier, and the ship's rocking was growing rougher, too, making Wes wonder that the whole thing didn't just tip over and spill everyone on board into the ocean.

Will wandered up behind Wes. "It's going to be big," Will predicted.

"Have you ever been through a storm before?" Wes asked.

"No," Will admitted. "But Jack-Captain Sparrow has been through plenty, and you can trust him to get us through without losing so much as a bottle of rum, as he puts it."

Wes said nothing, he only nodded, still gazing out at the dark sky.

"Are you worried?"

Wes shrugged. "Not too much. I trust you and the captain," he said. "I'm just worried that I won't be able to keep my breakfast down much longer."

Will's expression was sympathetic. "Seasick?"

"A little," Wes admitted. "You seem to be holding up pretty well."

Will nodded. "For some reason, the sea never bothers me. It's like... I belong out here," he said. "Plus, I don't fill myself with rum like the rest of the crew."

"Well, neither does Norrington," Wes pointed out.

Will gave a wry smile. "Norrington simply has a weak stomach."

The two of them stood in silence for a while, gazing out at the sky.

"I have some things to do," Will said. "I'll see you later."

"Right. See you later."

Will turned to go, but then looked back. "I hope you feel better."

Wes smiled. "I'm all right."

Will turned and left.

Wes wandered over to the side of the ship, still watching the sky, and being careful not to be pitched overboard with the ship's tossing. He was lost in thought, and didn't notice the captain until he was two inches away.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Captain Sparrow exclaimed jubilantly, looking up at the sky.

"Looks like rain," Wes said, making the understatement of the year.

The ship gave another toss, nearly throwing Wes and Sparrow overboard. They both recovered quickly.

"That's the worst part of it," Sparrow said, a strange expression on his face. "All the bloody rocking."

Wes frowned suspiciously. "_You're_ not seasick, are you?"

"Seasick? Me? Don't be ridiculous, boy. I've never felt better," Sparrow said, then promptly leaned over the side of the ship and proved himself a liar. Sparrow recovered shortly and grinned at Wes. "See? Never been better." Then the captain turned and walked away.

Wes gazed after him, watching his strange half-swaggering, half-staggering way of walking. _A stwagger, I suppose_, Wes thought, giving a name to Sparrow's peculiar gait. Wes grinned to himself, and headed back down to his cabin.

* * *

It was around five in the evening, when Wes heard someone yelling, "All hands on deck! All hands on deck! Storm's a-comin'!"

Wes jumped up and ran up to the deck. Sure enough, and true to Will's prediction, the storm was here.


	16. Chapter 16

Elle was grabbed roughly from her thoughts when shouts rang out above deck.

"Fowler, we're needed up there," West said. She turned to look at him, his face flushed and hair flung about. She jumped up and followed him out into the corridor. She had never seen the ship and its crew in this certain state of chaos. The Captain was shouting, Will Turner and Norrington were ordering people around. Once they got on deck, Gibbs spotted them.

"Aye, we be needing you with the sails. They're blowing out of control," he said, flustered beyond belief.

"Fowler, help me with this one," she heard West say to her. Grabbing onto the rope, she felt the strong wind eagerly try to pull it back from her. The rope burned her hand as it slipped through her grasp. Rain was splattering in her face and blurring her vision. Wind whipped her hair and more than once she had to reach up to keep her hat from being swept away.

This was too much. She couldn't take it. The ship began to move more recklessly, tossing them mercilessly. She couldn't tell which way was up or down anymore. Finally reaching what felt like the main mast, she wrapped her arms around it and prepared to anchor herself. Too bad it wasn't the main mast.

"Fowler, is that you?" Her eyes flew open. It was West she had anchored to. She immediately let go and averted her eyes, despite the stressful surroundings.

"I'm sorry West! I thought you were a…mast…" she was glad no one could see the red blush through the hazardous wind and rain. He gave her a confused look.

"What? Well, we've lost two sails and there's one left." A deafening rip was heard overhead. "Scratch that, we don't have any left."

The pirates watched despairingly as the sail fluttered into the tossing waves, in two pieces.

"Gibbs, man the sails and keep them here!" That was the Captain.

"Aye, sir, just one question, WHERE MIGHT THESE SAILS BE THAT WE BE SAVIN'?" He yelled back.

Norrington stumbled up to them, in the same haggard and soaked condition as the rest of them.

"Our main goal now is to keep everyone on board, seeing as we've lost our first priority, the sails. Move to the center of the boat, we're all going to try and anchor together," he had to shout above the whistling wind and roaring waves.

She could barely make out Pintel and Ragetti huddled next to Cotton and some other pirates. They were tying themselves to the real main mast while the ship was still pitching them and a few were dangerously close to the edges of the boat.

"Captain," she heard Will's voice behind her, "we've not lost a man, they're all here!"

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Come on," West grabbed her arm and they began to make their way to the main mast and the rest of the pirates. A large wave suddenly hit the boat and Elle felt her feet fly over her head and she lost sense of solid ground completely. She felt wind and rain and she could feel her body flying in the momentum of the tumultuous storm. Then she hit the water.

The water enveloped her and her lungs screamed for air. Hopelessly she began to claw in the open sea, trying to reach the surface. Lights burst behind her eyes for lack of air. Empty thoughts began to cloud her mind and her vision became black.

----------Wes's point of view----------

He watched with panic as Fowler was tossed like a toy into the air and over the starboard side. Leaning over the tipping ship, he could see Fowler was having trouble coming up to the surface.

"I'm going in after him!" He yelled.

"Not without this, you aren't," Will said, coming up behind him, a rope in hand. "This rope is tied to the main mast, and we're tying it to you." Will hurriedly wrapped and knotted the coarse rope around him, leaving a certain length on it for Wes to tie around Fowler.

Taking a deep breath, and reassuring that the rope was tied securely, Wes plunged into the raging sea.

The first thing he did was try to locate Fowler. The waves kept trying to push him under and it was becoming increasingly hard to stay above the water.

Looking to his left, he saw a shape in the water, floating and motionless. Swimming over to it, he knew at once that it was Fowler. Turning him over, he was unnerved at the lifeless face that once held a mysterious gleam. He reached for his extra rope and fastened it around Fowler's unmoving body.

"Pull me up! Pull me up, he's not breathing!" He yelled frantically, hoping they would hear him in thundering clamor around them. His body was jerked upward; he could see the heaving pirates trying to draw them up.

He clutched onto the rope and to Fowler as they were being lifted. Finally at the end of the rope, he felt many hands pulling them onto the deck. Looking around, Wes realized the worst of the storm had passed and it was becoming calm.

"You alright, son?" Captain Jack clapped his hand onto his back and Wes choked a bit on the seawater. "This'll help," he said, offering a bottle of rum.

"No, really, I don't drink…"

"Nonsense, just a swig." Reluctantly, Wes raised the bottle to his lips and swallowed a mouthful of the burning liquid. He coughed at the strong taste.

"How's he doing?" The Captain turned to Fowler. Norrington was hovering above him, trying to get him to breathe.

"His throat's full of seawater, as are his lungs," he answered. "Bring me a bucket."

Gibbs was right behind him sitting on one and promptly gave it up.

Turning Fowler over and placing the bucket near his face, Norrington pounded a hand onto his back.

Fowler's eyes flew open and seawater began pouring out of his mouth. He gagged a bit before more was let out. Eventually the bucket became half-full when he was done.

"West, help me get him to your cabin," Norrington stood up and grabbed Fowler's arms and upper torso. Wes moved to grab his legs and Will lead the way down below deck.

"Gently now, easy," Norrington said as they lowered him into the hammock. "Do you think you are able to stay with him the night? The most he'll do is probably catch a fever that should break in a few hours and you'll need to get dry clothes on him. On both of you actually, it provides a risk for catching a cold."

Wes sat exhaustedly onto his hammock. "Yeah, yeah I could do that."

"Excellent, if you need me, just come and wake me. Oh, and," he looked around to make sure no one was in the room with them. "You were very brave, Wes. Not many sailors I know from either the navy or piracy would have done what you did in what little time there was."

Wes just smiled, knowing his old friend well enough to know that he didn't give out praise lightly.

"See you in the morning." The door shut silently behind him.

With a weary sigh, Wes turned to where Fowler lay in a deep sleep. He pulled out a fresh shirt and began to unbutton Fowler's wet and dirty one. He stopped midway and dropped the shirt, mouth opened in complete surprise.


	17. Chapter 17

Wes stood immobile with shock. His head was spinning. This couldn't be real. But as Wes looked at his cabin mate's bare chest, he knew that it was true.

Johnny Fowler was a girl.

Wes realized that he was staring, and quickly looked away. He picked up the dry shirt he had dropped, and used it to cover Fowler's chest, so he could at least look at her without feeling ashamed.

Wes sat down on his own hammock, gazing across the cabin at Fowler and trying to think. What was he going to do now? For a moment, he considered telling someone. Norrington, maybe. But no. Wes had no idea what the crew might do to Fowler if they found out she was a girl. He didn't know how pirates felt about women as crew members.

Wes turned his mind to more immediate matters. He knew he had to get Fowler into dry clothes before she caught pneumonia. But how was he supposed to do that without seeing... _things_?

Finally, he found a solution. He found a large blanket and covered Fowler's body with it. Then he was able to change her clothes underneath the blanket, shielding his eyes from further exposure.

Wes changed his own clothes for dry ones, then he sat down on his hammock and gazed at Fowler. It made sense now, all her sneaking around and hiding. She didn't want anyone to see her face, for fear they would recognize it as a girl's. That was the reason for the ridiculous hat.

Fowler moaned in her sleep. Wes stepped across the room and felt Fowler's forehead. It was a little warm; she was probably running the slight fever Norrington had mentioned. Wes brought over his own blanket and draped it over Fowler's body to keep her warm.

Wes stayed up all night at Fowler's side. Her fever broke around four in the morning, and Wes relaxed a little, knowing that his cabin mate was going to be all right. Fowler was mysterious, and Wes was by no means close to having what one would call a friendship with her, but somehow Wes realized he cared about Fowler. Maybe even more now that he realized what Fowler really was. A girl. Wes felt that somehow, he should be the one to protect her.

Dawn came, and Fowler still slept. Wes was exhausted, but he forced himself to stay awake, at least until he knew someone else could look after Fowler. If that was even her real name. A girl would hardly be named Johnny Fowler. And chances were that if she was trying to hide from someone by concealing her very gender, she would create a false name.

Wes realized that he and Fowler had a lot in common. Except, of course, for a few quite obvious anatomical features. This could get interesting.

Fowler stirred, and then opened her eyes slowly. She glanced around the room, then her gaze came to rest on Wes, who was sitting on his own hammock, watching her intently.

"You know," Wes said. "I ought to slap you for lying to me. But I couldn't hit a girl."

Elle's eyes widened in horror.


	18. Chapter 18

Her eyes remained wide in shock.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. West," she said hurriedly.

"Oh, I think you do. No worries, mate, your secret's safe with me, for now."

Suddenly, she realized the only way he could have found out. Looking down, she noticed she was now clad in clean clothing. He had undressed her.

"I thoroughly apologize for…undressing you, but it was necessary for your health. I kept your modesty as best I could. If you had remained in the wet soggy clothes we pulled you out of the ocean with, you would have easily caught pneumonia or a severe cold," he finished.

She remained silent, too stunned to speak. She had taken every precaution, made sure of every suspicion, and yet, he had still found out. But then again, she had not fit a storm and rescue into the equation.

Wordlessly, she began to pull on her shoes.

"What are you doing? Do you feel ready to go back and work this soon?"

"What else am I going to do?"

"I'm working with you, and I promise I won't let you out of my sight," he said.

"Why are you going all protective of me? The fact that you just discovered my little secret doesn't change anything!" She stormed indignantly up to the main deck with West following closely behind her.

A few men turned their heads as 'Fowler' viciously began sweeping a soaked mop across the deck. West nodded to them, trying to seem casual. Norrington looked at the two curiously before walking towards West.

"He seems to be back to normal, eh? A little edgy…" he trailed off.

"He seems normal to me, actually. Now, if you'll excuse me," West pushed past him and began sweeping the deck alongside Fowler. The conversation had attracted the attention of Will Turner and Captain Sparrow, who were conversing between themselves quietly on the other side of the ship.

Will gave Jack a suspicious glance.

"What do you think happened between those two?" Will asked him.

"I don't know, but judging by my past experiences, it'd be the rum."

Will shook his head.

"Jack, is rum the only thing you think about?"

Jack seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Yep," he answered promptly.

Over on the other side of the ship, Elle was panicking about her newfound secret.

West knew, he said he wouldn't tell, but she couldn't trust him. Who was there to trust? There were no other women on board, no one else in her predicament. She was alone. Pushing down the overwhelming thoughts of fear, she tried to remain focused on the task at hand. She had been scrubbing the same spot of deck for the past five minutes.

Looking over at West, she spied him staring at her. He turned back to his own work when she saw him. What was it about him that made that strange feeling run up her spine and blush madly?

She had spent the latter part of at least two weeks sharing a cabin and living space with him. Beginning to think about it, she realized she was lucky to have been able to manage her disguise for this long.

-------------------------------

What to do about Fowler. Wes wasn't going to tell. He had made up his mind. He had so many questions wanting to flow out of his mouth.

How long had she been planning to hold up this charade? Was she ever going to tell? What was her real name?

He really didn't need to know the last one, but curiosity had been nagging at him ever since he had found out her secret. In Port Royal and in all the other places he had lived, Wes had never really found many women that attractive. They were either too flirtatious and out for his money, or too shy and unwilling to talk with him. The few that had interested him were mainly placed in the category of: "Looks can be deceiving". Never had he met a more conniving and manipulative species.

This woman, however, made him forget all others in a single second. He tried to shake off the now constant feelings of attraction, thinking she would rather die than start a relationship in her current situation.

He had now grown used to the heat, but it didn't stop him from feeling the least bit uncomfortable. He found his mind taking him back to when he had succumbed to the heat, and when Fowler had been so concerned about him…

Even then, when he had still been under the impression she was a he, Wes remembered the compassion and care that had shown in her eyes.

Would their entire relationship change when they were just beginning to become friends?

----------------------------------

Elle worked harder, trying to ignore the rushing thoughts about her head. She didn't want to think about what was going to happen. Her whole life she had taken what had come at her, and dealt with it. It had gotten her through four years on the rough streets and it would get her through her pirate career, however short it may last.

As she worked to get rid of the worried and anxious thoughts, thoughts of West were more of a priority. However much she hated to admit it, she found him highly attractive and had at many times resisted to brush that stray lock of hair from his handsome face.

Now she sounded like a blubbering, goggle-eyed schoolgirl. Just what she needed. She hated to think of what would happen if the Captain, Will Turner, or even Norrington found out about her secret. Would they be angry? Disappointed? Surprised?

Surprised in the least, but she wasn't too sure about anger or disappointment. She knew they would dismiss her at once, but what if she was able to prove her worth before they found out? What if she could show them she was just as good as a man? That might lessen the punishment to a mere day of cleaning the privy, if she was lucky.

So absorbed in her thoughts, she did not notice that noon had come and passed and the sun was beginning its decent over the horizon.

Pirates were beginning to abandon their jobs, knowing that the day was over and their expected duties fulfilled. There were some appointed to day and night duties at the sails, which had been replaced, and in the Crow's Nest. Elle wearily placed her mop against the side of the ship and headed below deck. As she had expected, West was at her heels.

The dank and salty smell of unwashed bodies and dried saltwater was still a scent becoming more familiar to her by the day. She knew her own clothes reeked of it and had no doubt the wood of the ship had soaked in its strong odor by now.

Collapsing for the umpteenth time into her welcoming hammock, Elle laid her head back and let her tired bones cease their endless work.

"Fowler, we need to talk," West said to her.

"About what? I'm a woman, end of story."

West ignored her witty response. "About what you plan on doing."

"You mean on the ship? I'll be doing what I did before you found me out, I'm a pirate, I'll act like a pirate, and I'll remain loyal to this ship for however long I'm bound to it," she said confidently. As easy as it seemed to get that statement out, West's question had made her nerves begin to worry her. What would she do?

"So you're just going to keep on being a man? Have you done this for most your life?"

"No, only for as long as I've had to. Any dense fool would know even pirates don't hire homeless and hopeless females at the end of their rope. Seems different though for those that happen to be male, doesn't it?" Her question hung in the air before she continued. "Well, I guess it is the way of the world. Women are homemakers and weak creatures that need protecting from their stronger counterparts."

West seemed amazed, and Elle knew it was because it was the most he'd ever heard her speak at once.

Elle then became conscious of where she was and what was happening. It all became real, too real. She was alone. She was in a strange smelling cabin with a man, highly indecent as her mother would say. In the middle of the Caribbean Sea with nowhere to run and escape and be comforted. As strong as she thought she was and as strong as she wished she could be, she could not stop the wet tears from beginning to fall

----------------------------------

Wes had been thinking quietly to himself, listening to Fowler speak and staring at the wooden floor. She had a lovely voice and the accent made her sound even more intriguing. Suddenly, she had stopped and he thought he heard a faint sound, a whimper.

Looking up, he became alarmed when he realized she was crying. A feeling deep inside him stirred and he felt himself wanting to hurt and eliminate whatever was making her distressed. It never occurred to him that it might have been he who was causing it.

He got up from his hammock and hesitantly sat down next to her. She turned her tear stained face to look at him. She looked so forlorn and helpless he could not help wrapping his arms around her and he felt her bury her face in his shoulder. He felt her tears falling onto his shirt and gently stroked her hair.

Although his experience with women was very small, having no sisters and as of yet no steady girl, he found his actions coming naturally and smoothly.

"I-I'm sorry I-I d-don't m-mean to be a b-bother," her voice was slightly muffled into his shoulder.

"You're not. What's wrong, are you scared?"

"Scared, worried, anxious, tired," she said. "I got myself into this mess; I don't think I want you to be dragged into it as well."

"I partly dragged myself into it by asking about your plans. I'm not going to tell, you know, if that's what's worrying you. Think about it, how is the rest of the crew going to find out about you? I'm really the only one who would ever find out in the first place."

"You're right," she sat up properly and pulled back. "I need to stop drowning myself in my absurd worries and go back to my old ways."

"Not before I do this," he said. On a complete impulse, rare for him, he leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. Elle was taken by complete surprise and guiltily found herself enjoying it. She sat rigid as he pulled back and looked at her.

"Now, what about that name of yours?"

* * *

Chicaga, thanks for all the kind reviews! We weren't sure how this story would be accepted, since it's not excactly traditional, but we're very glad you like it! 


	19. Chapter 19

Elle slept easier that night. She trusted West more than any other person on the ship. The next morning showed no sign of clouds and the sweltering heat of the Caribbean Sun showed its true colors.

"A little warm, don't you think?" West said to her as they were both helping to control the sails.

"A little, yes," she replied, not even looking up from her work.

"It would be a lot cooler for you if you took that hat off," Norrington said, coming up behind them. "We can't afford to have anyone succumb to the heat."

"I'm alright, besides, it keeps the sun from my eyes," she answered quickly, hoping she didn't sound too suspicious. Norrington gave West a doubtful look and with one last glance at Elle, he headed off somewhere else.

Hearing a clang of swords, Elle and West turned around from their work to see Captain Sparrow and Will Turner engaged in a sword fight.

"No cheating this time? Fair rules of engagement?" Will shouted to Sparrow, making sure everyone could hear. He began to roll up his sleeves and set his stance.

"Yes, yes alright, if I must. What's in it for me if I play fair?" Jack retorted, while doing the same.

"If I win, I want ten percent extra when next we sack a ship," Will said.

"Eight percent."

"Ten percent."

"Nine and a half?"

"Ten, or no deal."

"Fine," he grumbled. "Ten it is then. If I win, you must buy all the drinks when next we stop at Tortuga."

"Done," Turner agreed confidently.

They jumped together, swords meeting and forming an 'X'. Jack jumped back and Will stepped forward, delivering a blow that was barely stopped. Will struck again but Jack ducked below and came up with a strong attack of his own.

"Come on boy, you're forgetting one very important thing," Jack paused dramatically, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Will and Jack went back and forth and eventually the crew went back to their work, tiring of the fight that seemed as if the two opponents would never stop.

Norrington had appeared next to West and Elle again. Elle ignored him but West asked him a question.

"Do they usually do this?"

"When they're bored," he answered. "I've heard the story and apparently this all goes back to when they first met. Will was still a blacksmith and Jack was running from the Navy, or me. They had engaged in a sword fight that was evenly matched until Jack pulled a gun on Will and since then Turner has always held a grudge against Jack for fair fighting."

"Do you think he will? He has a gun hidden in his shirt by the looks of it," West observed.

"You're one of the more intelligent ones who look at the odds before placing a bet. Will didn't notice that, and he'll pay."

"But the Captain agreed to a fair fight! He can't just break the agreement off," West argued.

"He's the Captain, and he'll do whatever he bloody likes, as he has so constantly reminded us. Will can't argue with the Captain and he knows this, that's why he's usually careful. But this time, Turner has slipped."

True to Norrington's prediction, Sparrow pulled the gun from his shirt and a split-second later had it held to Will's face. He gently pushed the tip of the barrel against Will's forehead.

"Touch, you're dead."

"I can't believe you still have to fight me with a gun. This proves you're afraid of me, and I could beat you in a fair fight," Will said to him, in a surprisingly calm voice.

"I'm not afraid of you, boy. I'm not afraid of anyone," Jack said in his usual half-drunken drawl.

"Oh yes, Davey Jones was just a harmless and forgotten memory."

"'Cept him," Jack said quickly, looking at the waves in panic.

"Do you still have that jar of dirt?" Will asked him.

"It's in my quarters. Don't touch it." Sparrow spun on his heel and sauntered below deck.

The pirates began to return to their own quarters too, as the sun was low on the horizon. It cast an orange glow on the sea and the air had become considerably cooler.

As Will was walking below deck, Norrington caught his arm and held him back.

"What is it?" Will asked.

"I have some skepticism about Fowler," he said in a low voice.

"What about him?"

"His gender."

"James, has the heat gotten to you? What would put this idea in your head?" Will asked him, completely astounded.

"I have my doubts. Have you ever noticed his face?"

"Not hardly, he wears a hat most of the time, how would-" Will stopped, realizing what he was saying. "You mean to say he's wearing a hat to disguise his features? Are you sure?"

"I'm not saying anything's true or untrue, all I'm saying is that I think we should do something to assure ourselves of his true identity."

"We could interrogate him with the Captain, Jack knows how to get things out of people. What do you plan on doing to him if he's…a her?"

"I don't know. He is a hard worker, someone we couldn't afford to lose. But we have to know, Will. If not for Fowler's own protection," Norrington said.

They walked below deck, heading for the last cabin.

Elle sat down in her hammock and stiffened when West sat down next to her.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing, I'm just not…used to this kind of thing," she replied. She leaned back into him, ignoring her hesitation and welcoming the feeling of being safe.

"I'll move if you want me to," he said softly.

"No, please don't." She surprised herself when she turned her head and caught his lips with her own.

The door swung open and Norrington stepped in followed closely by Turner.

The two jumped back from each other and Turner held a shocked look on his face. Norrington held a slightly similar look, but altogether looked quite smug.

"Well, Turner, it looks as if my suspicions were correct."

"What suspicions, Norrington?" West asked him.

"Fowler is a woman. Or you are both messed up. I am more inclined to believe the first rather than the latter of my two misgivings."

"Fowler," Turner said, "follow me, I think Jack would like to speak with you."


	20. Chapter 20

Elle felt like her heart had stopped. She'd been discovered. Her first thought was that West had broken his promise, and she looked over at him, but he looked just as shocked and frightened as she felt, and she knew he wasn't responsible. She immediately felt guilty for suspecting him.

"Fowler," Turner repeated. "Please come with me."

Elle started to follow him, hesitantly, her mind racing. What was she going to tell the captain? She couldn't lie, the truth was only too obvious. And once Captain Sparrow knew she was a woman, what would he do to her? Shoot her? Throw her overboard? She knew she wouldn't get off without some kind of punishment.

Elle was trembling as Turner and Norrington led her to the captain's door. Norrington knocked on the door, and Elle felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and saw West standing there. She hadn't noticed him following her.

"We're in this together," West said quietly.

"Why?" Elle asked. "It's not your fault I'm a girl. I don't want you to get in trouble." But secretly, Elle was glad for his presence.

The door opened, and Captain Sparrow poked his head out. "Who's there?" he asked.

"It's us, Jack," Turner said. "We need to have a word with you."

Captain Sparrow opened the door and let the four of them into his office. He sat down behind his desk and propped his feet up on it. "Have a seat," he offered, though there were no other chairs in the room.

"Captain Sparrow," Norrington said, ignoring the Captain's offer. "I would like to speak to you about a certain matter that was brought to my attention. It concerns a member of your crew, a certain individual who calls himself Johnny Fowler."

"What about 'im?" Jack asked.

"I have reason to believe that he is not who he says he is. Or more appropriately, _what_ he says he is."

Jack frowned. "You're not making any sense, mate."

Turner stepped in. "Jack, when we stepped into the cabin Johnny Fowler shares with Sam West, we found the two of them kissing."

Jack swung his feet off the desk and stared at Elle. "Eunich?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Turner.

Norrington rolled his eyes. "Captain Sparrow," he said. "Johnny Fowler is a woman."

Elle stiffened with apprehension, and West gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

Jack frowned and walked over to Elle. He walked in a slow circle around her, looking her up and down. He glanced back at Norrington. "A woman, you say?"

"That is what I believe, sir," Norrington said.

Jack looked Elle straight in the eye. Elle held his gaze.

"Is this true?" the captain asked quietly.

The calm seriousness in his voice frightened Elle more than if he had shouted. But she fought down the rising panic, taking comfort from West's hand in hers. Elle gave a steady nod. "Yes," she answered, reaching up and removing the hat she wore to hide her face, and then letting her hair down so it fell around her shoulders. "It's true."

Elle heard a sharp intake of breath. The captain took a step backwards, still gazing intently into Elle's eyes. She tried to read his expression. He was frowning, but he didn't look angry, or even upset. He simply appreared to be deep in thought.

Elle glanced over at Norrington and Turner. Norrington looked slightly triumphant, and seemed to be watching the captain for his next move. Turner was wide-eyed, and was also watching the captain closely.

West squeezed her hand again, and Elle looked over at him. He was gazing down at her as if he had just seen her for the first time. In a way, he had.

* * *

Wes gazed down at Elle as he realized he had never seen her face this clearly before. She had always been hidden beneath that ridiculous hat, or else in their small, dark cabin where her features were hidden beneath shadows. 

She was pretty, Wes realized, with some alarm. Very pretty.

Her eyes were a deep brown, young, but at the same time, old and world-weary. They were bright and sparkled, but only from the shine of unshed tears. They were deep and rich, but only from hiding years of painful memories. They were like shining armor, keeping out things that would tear open old wounds, but keeping her existing pain from bursting out and flowing uncontrollably.

Her young face seemed to have aged prematurely from many difficult months filled with lies, worry, and hiding. She was a child trapped in the cares of someone twice her age. Wes gazed down into her face with admiration and wonder. How did she do it? She acted so strong and confident, though Wes could tell she was afraid.

Wes wanted to protect her. He wasn't sure he knew how, but someway, he was going to make sure that nothing happened to her. She didn't deserve to be punished. She was still a child, bearing pain and trying to survive. Only the cruelest of men would blame her for that.

Wes looked over at Captain Sparrow, who seemed to be thinking hard. He was frowning, staring hard at Elle. Wes only hoped that the captain's controversial concept of fairness would extend mercy to Elle.

"A woman, eh?" Jack finally said. "I never would've guessed it, mate. You're as good a pirate as I've ever seen. And trust me, I've seen many a good pirate in my day."

"Thank you, sir," Elle said.

"Just tell me one thing, mate. Why didn't you just tell us you was a woman?"

Elle looked at the ground. "I don't know. I was afraid, I guess. I didn't know how you would feel about me if you knew I was a woman."

There was another long pause.

"Will, Mr.Norrington, I would like to speak to you both," the captain finally said. "Mr.West, you and the lady may wait outside."

Elle nodded and headed for the door. Wes waited until she had gone, and then he looked to the captain. "Captain Sparrow," he said. "Please don't hurt her. I know she deceived you, but she didn't mean any harm, she's only trying to survive. And she's young. She doesn't deserve to be punished."

Jack gazed at Wes for a moment. "There will be no harming of anyone," he said. "You have my word."

Wes glanced over at Norrington, whose expression was, as usual, impassive and unreadable. Wes turned and stepped out of the cabin, hearing the door close and lock behind him.

Elle was standing just off to the side, looking scared. Wes put his arms around her. "It'll be okay," he said. "The captain's a good man. He won't hurt you."

Wes and Elle waited outside for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the door opened, and Norrington stepped out, followed by Turner.

"The captain has come to a decision," Norrington announced.

Elle looked up at the two men nervously, expecting news of a harsh punishment.

"You will be staying on as a fully operational member of the crew," was all Norrington said. "You're a hard worker, and we couldn't afford to lose you. Woman or not, we need you."

Without thinking, Elle threw her arms around him. She couldn't believe it. They weren't going to kill her. She was safe. For now.

"There is still the matter of your punishment," Norrington said. "So if you will kindly release me, I will instruct you in the proper way to clean the privvy."

Sheepishly, Elle released Norrington, and followed him below deck. She didn't even mind the fact that she would be cleaning the ship's privvy. All she could think about was the fact that she was still a member of the crew. Elle went straight to work with a smile on her face.

* * *

Chicaga, thanks again for your reviews! They're very uplifting! 


	21. Chapter 21

"Elle," Wes said. She had told him her name and he liked the sound of it as it rolled off his tongue. "I am assuming your last name is O'Brien. That man on the ship was your brother."

Elle lowered her head and nodded solemnly. Wes could tell it still brought memories to her that she did not want to remember.

"He had hinted in some of his letters that he was coming for me. That was what prompted me to find another place to go. I had been giving him the address of the post office itself so we managed to maintain a somewhat regular correspondence. He thought I was living with a distant relative."

"And you did not want to go back to London with him?"

Elle gave him a dark look. "He intended to commit me to a convent, a Nunnery. A life of being completely bored to death and having an over-used sense of conservancy."

Silence passed between them, and Wes noticed Elle staring at him.

"What?" He asked.

"Your eyes. I never noticed them. One is blue, the other is green." She stood up and moved over to sit next to him. Sweeping his hair out of his face with her hand, something she had longed to do, she looked into the different colored eyes with a newfound fascination.

"They are beautiful, much more interesting than my dull ones," she trailed off. Their faces were close together, and their lips met in a hesitant kiss.

Hearing loud and heavy steps outside the cabin door, the two broke apart quickly. So quickly that the hammock deposited them both in pile on the floor.

The steps passed, and Wes assumed it was a pirate on his way to the privy or for a drink in the galley. He looked down to see Elle beginning to break into laughter at their unusual position. He smiled himself as he began to untangle his foot from the hammock and help her up from underneath him.

"False alarm?" She asked, accepting his hand as he pulled her to her feet.

"We really should be more careful, a repeat incident of earlier would just be inviting another conflict."

She went to her respective hammock and he went to his own. After lying awake and listening to her steady, soft breathing, he drifted off himself.

Elle woke up the next morning to the familiar sound of Gibbs' voice.

"Sleep well?" West asked. She looked up at him, apprehension showing in her eyes. She nodded, feeling her stomach practically flip.

What would the pirates think? She couldn't hide her secret any longer. She put down the hat that had become her safeguard the past few weeks and followed West out the door.

"Don't worry," he consoled her. "If anyone protests or tries to harm you, they'll have me to answer to. No doubt the Captain, Turner, and Norrington as well."

This assured her a little more and the pressure eased. The well-known scent of the salty sea-air hit her as they ascended above deck.

Ignoring the stares that were beginning to be directed at her, she walked determinedly to her post where she would be helping to control sails. Looking up, she met the eyes of a very stunned Pintel. Ragetti stood next to him looking equally shocked.

"It's a woman!" A pirate on the other side of the ship shouted. All heads now swiveled in her direction; the ship's attention was focused on her.

"It's bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir," Gibbs began, speaking to the Captain.

"She's been on the ship for a while, Gibbs. Bad luck has not come our way, only unfortunate coincidences," Jack answered. Gibbs opened his mouth to speak again, but thought better of it.

A large, burly man whom Elle had never met stepped in front of her and seemed to scrutinize every inch of her. A disgusted and sneering look swept across his features.

"Women are weak, they don't belong on a pirate ship," he said, his coarse voice sending shivers up her spine.

He looked to Elle's right and she knew West was standing next to her.

"I'm just sayin'," he continued, "I wouldn't be wanderin' around this ship alone if I were a woman."

Elle tried her hardest to disregard the continuing curiosity of the men as she worked. West worked alongside her, as usual, and she found his presence to be comforting. As she worked, doubts and fears began to gnaw at her mind once again.

The pirate was right. She was weak. Her mind argued between itself and reality. She had already lasted this far, and the Captain believed she could do it; else he would have dismissed her. She could still feel his eyes on her in his musky office…

Feeling different, she looked up to see West no longer next to her. She frantically began to look around, and sighed in relief when she saw him talking to Norrington. He had been doing that a lot lately. Elle began to wonder if they had known each other in the past. She would ask him tonight.

"How are you getting along?"

She stood up straight as she heard the Captain's voice. "Well enough, thank you," she answered. He sauntered close to her and she felt him brush her slightly when he moved to lean against the ship's side.

"I have no idea what sort of desperation would drive a pretty girl like you to my ship," he said.

"Captain Sparrow," West said, returning from his conversation. Jack nodded to him before getting a distant look in his eyes and wandering off.

"What did he want?" West asked her.

"He was just being friendly, he wanted to know how I was doing," she replied.

"A little close for friendly, don't you think?"

She gave him a disbelieving look. "You aren't jealous are you?"

"No, of course not," he said quickly. They continued to work in silence for the remainder of the day. Elle was glad when they were finally able to return below deck where the cool, dark air would envelope them.

"So," Elle began, as she flopped into her hammock. "What's going on between you and Norrington?"

"What do you mean?" West asked.

"I'm just saying, you two seem very familiar to have only just met on the ship."

"I might know him a bit from when I was younger, but we're not the closest of friends," he answered.

Stillness encased the cabin as the occupants retreated to their own thoughts.

"What about you and the Captain?"

"So you are jealous?"

"Not at all, I'm worried. You didn't see the way he was looking at you."

"West, he's not going to hurt me. He seems like a good man," she said. "Besides, why would I want him," she paused, "when I have you?"

He looked into her eyes, noting the sincere look that overshadowed them.

"You really think that way?" Elle blushed as she realized what she had said, knowing she had not ever uttered those words to anyone before.

"Of course," she pushed down the insecure thoughts. She smiled as West seemed very pleased with himself, and laughed in surprise as he jumped up and pressed a kiss to her lips.

* * *

Lovey-dovey chapter by the elf, ElfLuver13. (The space pirate isn't quite as good at that stuff.) And thanks to our new convert Keeran for the nice review!


	22. Chapter 22

Life went on as usual. Or, almost usual. Being a woman, Elle was subjected to the flirtatious catcalls and jokes of the other pirates, even when Sam West was with her. She had gone to calling him by his first name. He had asked her to, with the reasoning that after all they'd been through together, they should definitely be on first name terms.

"Maybe I should have just gone on pretending I was a man," Elle said to him while they were sitting in their cabin one night. "It would have been a lot easier if just you and the Captain, Turner, and Norrington knew about me. Then I wouldn't have to deal with all the rest of the crew mocking me."

"No," Sam had said. "They would have found out somehow anyway. Besides, I like to be able to see your face and eyes." Then he had kissed her, and she had given up the argument.

Elle learned to ignore the comments and whistles of the rest of the crew, and she had even gone so far as to threaten Pintel with her sword. Nobody bothered her much after that, especially since Sam stayed constantly at her side, providing her with some protection.

After a week, everything was pretty much back to normal on the ship. The crew had adjusted to the fact that they would be working alongside a woman, and that if they wanted to mess with her, they would have to go through Sam first.

It was on the seventh day after Elle's discovery that Norrington approached both Elle and Sam. "You seem to be adjusting quite well," he commented to Elle.

"I am, sir," Elle said.

"Not an easy task aboard this ship, I am sure."

Elle shrugged. "Well, Sam here has been watching out for me. Almost like a brother."

"A little more than a brother, from what I've seen."

Elle felt herself blush.

"Actually, that is what I would like to talk to you about," Norrington said. "Now that you are known to be a woman, one can only question the appropriateness of your sharing a cabin with a male member of the crew."

"What?"

"I think it would be best if you had a cabin to yourself, and your friend Mr.West were to move in with another member of the crew."

Elle looked up at Sam. Norrington had a point, but Elle didn't really want to have Sam taken away from her. The thought of having a cabin to herself didn't appeal to her, either. She felt safe sleeping in the cabin she shared with Sam, knowing he was right across the room, protecting her. If she was alone, all that security would be gone.

"But... sir," Elle protested. "I get along just fine sharing a cabin with Sam."

"That is not the issue," Norrington said. "The issue is that it is simply not proper for a young, unmarried girl such as yourself to be sharing a living space with a young man who is not a relative."

"But--"

"My decision is not up for debate. You, Mr.West, will be relocated to my cabin for tonight and until suitable arrangements can be made for Miss O'Brien."

Elle started to protest again, but Sam squeezed her hand and silenced her.

"Thank you," Norrington said. "I believe now would be a good time for Mr.West to gather up his personal belongings and move them into my cabin."

"Yes, sir," Sam muttered.

Norrington turned to go, and Elle turned to head back to their cabin, but Sam hesitated. Elle turned to wait for him, but he said, "You go ahead and start packing up some of my clothes. I'll be along in a minute."

Elle nodded, and started back towards the cabin again, and Sam disappeared around the corner.

"Mr.Norrington," Sam called. "Wait a minute."

"There is nothing you can say to me that will make me change my mind," Elle heard Norrington say. "It is simply not at all proper for the two of you to be sharing a cabin."

"Please listen," Sam insisted. When Norrington said nothing else, Elle heard Sam continue, "Look, sir, I respect your opinion, but you have to look at things my way. I'm concerned about Elle's safety. If the rest of the crew knows that she will be alone at night... Well, can we really trust them? I'm worried that one of them might try to hurt her. If I'm with her, it may not fit your definition of "proper", but at least I'd know she was safe."

Elle smiled to herself. If anyone could get Norrington to change his mind, it was Sam. And even if he couldn't, Elle loved him just for trying.

Norrington sighed. "I understand your concern, Wes, and I do share an amount of it. But I have ways of making sure the crew members behave themselves."

"Sir--"

"My mind has been made up, Wes."

Elle frowned, confused. Wes? She hurried to get back to the cabin before Sam realized she had been listening in.

Elle entered the cabin she shared with Sam, and began folding his clothes so they would fit in the small backpack he had brought with him. He didn't have many clothes, and she soon finished. She picked up Sam's backpack, and started to shove his extra shirts inside, but stopped to pull out the few things that were sitting at the bottom of it.

There were a few uninteresting items, a drinking cup and some coins, but then Elle came to the very bottom of the pack and pulled out two pieces of paper with what looked like letters written on them. Curious in spite of herself, Elle looked at the first piece of paper and began to read.

_Dear future reader, You do not know me, and I do not know you. I do not even know why I am writing, except that I must tell somebody, and to say these things out loud would mean certain exile, imprisonment, and death. _

Shocked, yet intruiged, Elle read on.

_My name is Wesley Silverthorn. I come from a wealthy, yet disreputable family. My father is lazy and does no work, living off the fortune he inherited from his father, as did his father before him..._

Before she knew it, Elle had come to the end of the letter, and moved on to the second one.

_Dear future reader, If you read my former letter, you know that I ran away from home, a fugitive, after killing my older brother._

Elle kept reading, wondering who this Wesley Silverthorn was, and why Sam was holding on to his letters written to nobody in particular. Suddenly she came to a part that sounded familiar.

_I have joined a pirate ship. I was walking along the docks, and stopped to examine a pirate ship called the Black Pearl, when I met a member of the ship's crew and he asked me if I was looking for work. _

She read on.

_I accepted the man's offer, joining the pirate ship under the name Sam West._

Elle stared at the letter, reading that last sentence over and over again to herself. Sam West, her cabin mate, her friend, was really Wesley Silverthorn, a fugitive from England. Elle couldn't believe it, but the evidence was staring her in the face. Had he really lied to her? After all they had been through together? After she had trusted him? After she had _kissed _him?

Elle heard footsteps approaching, and Sam, or Wesley, stepped into the cabin. "No good, Elle. Sorry. Norrington's subborn as anything," he said. Then he noticed the peculiar look on Elle's face, and he frowned. "What is it?"

Elle stood up, still holding the letter. "Who is Wesley Silverthorn?" she asked.

* * *

Wes stopped in his tracks. "What are you talking about?" 

Elle held up the letter. "Who wrote this? Was it you?"

Wes snatched the letters out of her hand. "You're not supposed to be reading that! Where did you find it, anyway?"

"In your backpack."

"You were going through my backpack?"

"I was putting your clothes away, and I--"

"And you decided to go through some of my personal papers?"

"I'm sorry... But why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you?" Wes cried. "Tell you things that could get me hanged? Are you crazy?"

There was a pause. Wes glared down at Elle, feeling guilty as he saw tears coming to her eyes, but too upset to do anything about it. She had gone through his things, and now she knew who he really was. An exile, a fugitive, a murderer... a Silverthorn.

Elle stared up at him, pain in her eyes. "Don't you trust me?"

"I don't know, Elle," Wes said, exasperated. "I don't know who I can trust. You ought to know what that's like better than anyone."

"After all we've been through together... After you found me out... After all the feelings we've had for each other... You still don't trust me enough to tell me your real name?"

Wes didn't answer. He felt to angry and violated to say anything. His secret was out. He had been exposed. He was no longer safe. Wes felt himself starting to panic. He had to survive somehow. He wanted to run. Run and hide, and get as far away from Elle and the_ Black Pearl_ as possible.

"I thought I could. I also thought I could trust you not to go through my backpack, and read things that were not meant for your eyes!"

"Wes..."

"And don't call me Wes! Someone might hear!"

"Who might hear? Norrington, maybe?" Elle shot back. "Oh, that wouldn't matter, would it? He already knows your name, doesn't he?"

"I knew him before. Years ago, when he was a lieutenant back in England. That was before all this."

"You still should have told me who you really are!" Elle cried. "You said so yourself, we're on first name terms now."

"All right!" Wes snapped. "So maybe I wasn't completely truthful. That is still no reason for you to go looking through my personal things without permission!"

"I'm sorry, all right?" Elle cried. "But it wouldn't matter anyway if you had told me the truth in the first place, now would it?"

"That doesn't change anything!" Wes shouted. "It doesn't change anything at all!"

"I think it changes quite a bit," Elle said coldly. She picked up Wes's clothes, shoved them in his backpack, and threw the whole thing at him. "You're all packed."

Wes caught the pack. He glared at Elle a moment longer, then stormed out of the cabin.


	23. Chapter 23

Elle couldn't believe it! The audacity of Sam, well, Wes, to hide those things from her was intolerable! Did he really think she would turn him in after all they'd been through? She knew a key part of a relationship was trust, and since he seemed to be unwilling to give that to her, it was better off that they were separated for now.

She couldn't believe that just hours ago they were fighting to stay in the same cabin. This all would have been avoided if he didn't have to move. But when was he planning to tell her? Would he have ever told her?

With an exasperated sigh, Elle turned over in her hammock and attempted to fall asleep, despite the raging thoughts and furious accusations running through her mind.

* * *

Wes was in Norrington's cabin lying in a hammock that had been hastily strung up in the corner. The former Commodore's cabin was neat and spotlessly clean, evidence of his former life. It even smelled clean, lacking the essence of sweat and salt, a very undesirable combination. 

He began to remember what had transpired with Elle earlier. Why had she done it? Was it just curiosity? She had been packing up his things, but those letters were at the very bottom of his bag. If it was him, he would've just shoved the clothes in without glancing once at the bag, or what was in it.

"Go to sleep. She's fine," he heard Norrington say from across the room. He had seen his restless turning and thought he was worried about her. After what had happened tonight, Wes really didn't care what happened to her. His mind tried to tell him otherwise, that she was alone and scared just as he was. They both had been exposed.

Resolving that he would not worry about her and he needed a restful night's sleep, Wes settled into the hammock more comfortably and drifted off himself.

* * *

Elle groggily swept her hair back behind her face and prepared for the day. As she realized her predicament, she noticed she would be going it alone. No strong, safe presence beside her. No comforting hand to ease her fears. She was alone. 

No, she had Will Turner. He wouldn't let anything happen to her would he? Norrington, he was an honorable man. He had been the indirect cause of their relationship to break, but he would be courteous enough help her, right?

Her ideas and lists of people were running low. The pirates would soon notice she had no Sam West beside her to protect her. Elle knew she could not overpower them all, quite a few of them were at least four times her size, not counting the fact that they were all male as well.

She took a shaky breath and stepped out of her cabin. Her cabin, how odd that sounded. Walking proudly with her head held high, she ascended the steps and placed herself in the line of pirates that were beginning to form. A few turned their heads and looked shocked to see her alone.

She ignored them, and she ignored everyone else until Wesley Silverthorn stepped out on the main deck. She fixed him with an antagonizing glare that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the crew. He glanced at her once before looking away and standing in the line himself.

The crew was dead silent as they retrieved their orders, scurrying off when they were assigned a job. Elle noticed she and West were the only ones left without a task appointed to them.

"West, Miss O'Brien, I feel that you two should brush up a bit on your swordsmanship to keep in top form," Turner explained to them. "You'll be going up against each other, it will be interesting to see your skills and if they've improved."

Elle cast a vicious sideways glance at Wes, who seemed to be highly interested in the hilt of his sword.

"The Rules then?" They both nodded.

"No blood will be drawn," he started, "the duel cannot exceed one half hour," Elle was surprised at this, "and the duel may also not be held outside the boundaries given."

They were instructed to remain in the center part of the main deck, where no one worked, and not leave it. Elle noticed that the Captain casually pulled out a bottle of rum and leaned against the ship's side, he would be watching. She thought he even gave her a wink, but told herself the sun was making things look funny.

Norrington stood a few feet away from the captain and Will stood next to him, ready to supervise the fight.

Elle drew her sword up and Wes did the same. Their swords touched briefly, almost like an acknowledgment, and then Wes struck with lightening speed. She held her weapon steady as the two collided. She jumped back, deflecting another strike aimed at her.

Will, Norrington, and Jack stood watching the three, clearly amazed at the hostility being shown between them.

"Something doesn't seem right," Will began.

"I'll say, she looks like she wants to run him through," Jack said, amusement showing in his voice. "They seemed to be on quite different terms the other day."

"So it would seem," Norrington commented, squinting against the bright sky.

They turned their attention to the duel again, which had grown more violent. Elle was attacking with all her force and they could see Wes retaliating with the same force. It soon became completely obvious that the two were not as close as they once had been.

Their swords met and neither moved, they were face to face. Their eyes met in a stubborn gaze.

"Why did you do it?" Wes whispered.

"You should have told me," she whispered back. The three men watching could not catch any of what they were saying to each other.

"It was my business, something I was trying to hide," he said.

"No, it was a matter of trust. You know everything about me; I thought I knew something about you. I thought I knew your real name, but I didn't," she finished.

The match was even, their talents equal. Several times one would come close to beating the other, making it a close duel.

"Their time is up," Will said.

"But it was just getting interesting…" Jack said.

Will stopped the fight, stepping between the two.

"Nice work, you've both improved," Will said to them. "You are excused from working for the rest of the day, you'll need your energy for the next few days."

"Why is that?" Elle asked.

"We are not anticipating it, but there might be a small schooner bound for the American coast that crosses our path. It's carrying valuable trade items found in the Caribbean."

"There's a storm coming," the Captain said suddenly. He stood looking out over the horizon and scanning the cloudless blue skies above.

"Jack, ye be havin' a bit too much o' that rum, I'd say. There's not a cloud in the sky, and no sign of any approachin' gale that I can see," Gibbs said.

"I think I've known Jack enough to trust him when it comes to anything concerning his ship," Will said.

"It'll be here in less than two days, not that big, but still," the Captain continued, ignoring both of them.

Elle moved below deck and lay in her cabin, feeling the soft roll of the waves moving the ship in a rhythmic motion. She heard a door slam a few cabins down from hers and assumed Wes had gone to his own, the one he shared with Norrington.

She wrenched her mind from thoughts of Wes and pondered over the approaching storm. Her fears from the last storm that ravaged the ship had not yet left her. That brought her back to Wes, to her dislike, and the morning she discovered he had found her out.

A part of her wanted to beg for forgiveness and win him back. After all, the last few days had been the most enjoyable of her life so far. Her pride forbade her.

* * *

Idly cleaning the barrel of his gun, Wes allowed his thoughts to wander to the coming downpour. The Captain had hinted that it would be bad, but surely it could not be as bad as the one they had already weathered. Wes had never seen a more hectic and chaotic scene in his life. Even through his recent hatred of her, his mind inexplicably brought up the horrifying images of her lithe body being tossed like doll. 

Slowly, he replaced his gun in its proper place by his other things. Picking up a stray piece of parchment he walked over to where a worn and sturdy looking desk sat bolstered to the floor. He lit a candle in the dark room, lowering his quill into an inkpot and beginning to write.

* * *

Ah, this chapter at last! ElfLuver13, being such a procrastinator, held off writing this chapter for about a month after I had finished chapter 22. I was quite surprised to find this in my inbox one afternoon, as I had been wondering if it was never going to come. Now I am waiting on the elf to finish chapter 28... (hint, hint) 


	24. Chapter 24

Dear future reader,

You would think that when one's world is turned upside down, and then upside down again, things would be right side up in the end. While this way of thinking sounds logical, I have found out first hand that it is quite flawed when applied to real life.

Several days ago, I made a startling discovery. My cabin mate, the enigmatic Johnny Fowler, fell overboard during a storm. I jumped over to save him, and once we were pulled back on board, the duty of taking care of him fell on me, as I share a cabin with him. The first thing I did when we got back to our cabin was to change him into dry clothes to keep him from catching pneumonia. As I was doing this, I found out in a most improper way that he was a she.

In the days that followed, Elle O'Brien (that is her proper name, as a girl would hardly be named Johnny) and I became friends. More than friends, I suppose, to be absolutely truthful. We shared a few kisses, and some romantic feelings.

It wasn't long before Mr.Norrington and Will Turner discovered us kissing in our cabin, and Elle's true identity was revealed to the rest of the crew.

Not long after that, Mr.Norrington decided that it was improper for a young, unmarried girl to be sharing a cabin with a male member of the crew. So he decided that I would be moving in with him, and Elle would have our cabin to herself. Against our will, of course. As I was arguing with Norrington about it, Elle went back to the cabin.

When I returned to the cabin, I found that she had been going through my personal things and in the process had discovered my former two letters. Not only had she discovered them, but she read them. She confronted me about my true identity, and had the audacity to be angry at me! I wasn't the one who had violated my closest friend's privacy and found out his deepest secret.

We got into a fight, and I must admit I lost my temper somewhat unnecessarily. I was angry that she had gone through my stuff and read the letters, but I suppose I was afraid and had to yell at someone. Now my secret is out, and I don't know how well I can trust this Elle especially now that we're not exactly on speaking terms with each other. She's angry, too. Will Turner paired the two of us in a swordfighting duel today, and I believe we would have killed each other if he hadn't stopped us.

I share a cabin with Mr.Norrington now. He is the only other one on this ship who knows who I really am. I constantly worry that someone else will find out and tell the captain, and that this time he might not be so forgiving about being lied to.

I wish I could talk to someone who would give me advice, and at times I nearly went to Norrington, but I can't tell him the truth about my brother's death. He would be terribly disappointed with me, and I worry that he would turn me in if he knew. He was, after all, a Commodore in the Royal Navy. Even if the title is no longer his, he is still the upstanding British officer I knew years ago, and even though he is a pirate, I doubt that his morals have changed much when it comes to murder. He thinks my constant state of anxiety is due to worry about Elle's safety. I'll let him think what he wants. The truth is too dangerous to reveal.


	25. Chapter 25

Before long, it was evident that the captain's weather prediction was accurate. A storm was coming. The sky was dark and ominous, the air cool, and the sea choppy.

"Looks like a storm's coming," Wes commented to Norrington as the two of them sat in their cabin.

"Yes," Norrington replied. "It should reach us early this afternoon."

Wes nodded silently.

Norrington studied him for a moment. "Are you worried about her?"

"About who?" Wes asked stupidly.

"Miss O'Brien. It is quite obvious that you two care for each other, and you have seemed anxious ever since she moved into her own cabin," Norrington said. "You need not worry, however. I have ways of making sure the crew stays out of trouble. No harm will befall young Miss O'Brien."

Wes nodded again, not listening. If Norrington wanted to think that he was anxious because he was worried about Elle, so much the better. The real reason for his worry was, of course, that Elle would reveal his true identity. That would be disastrous, Wes knew.

A little later, Wes wandered up on deck. He gazed out over the ocean. Usually the water was a calm, inviting blue, but today it was a cold, angry gray. The sky was dark and threatening, and Wes could see lightning flashing out over the horizon.

Will Turner walked up behind Wes. "It will be here within a few hours," Will said.

Wes nodded.

"I wanted to talk to you about your duel yesterday," Will continued.

"Oh. That."

"Yes. Is everything all right between you and Miss O'Brien? If I didn't know better, I would say that it looked like the two of you were really trying to kill each other."

Wes didn't know how to respond to that. "We had a little... disagreement," he finally said. For some reason, he felt like he could trust Will, and he felt a sudden impulse to tell him everything. But then his better judgement took over, and he kept his mouth shut.

Will only nodded. "Women. Always the same. Unpredictable and volatile." He looked over at Wes with a slight grin. "Don't tell my wife I said that."

* * *

"All hands on deck!" Gibbs shouted, over the thunder and pouring rain, as if all hands weren't already on deck. 

True to Will's prediction, the storm arrived before two hours had passed. Rain poured down, lightning flashed, and thunder boomed. The ship rocked from side to side, and threatened to spill over into the waves. The wind tore at the sails, and the crew fought to keep the sails from ripping.

Wes saw Elle struggling to tie a rope down. He hesitated a moment, then went over to help her.

"What are you doing here?" Elle snapped, trying to yank the rope from Wes's hands.

"Helping," Wes shouted over the crash of thunder.

"I don't need help from you!"

"All right, fine!" Wes shouted, angrily. "I was only trying to help!" He threw the rope back at Elle, and as he did, the sail slackened and was pummeled by a gust of wind that made the ship lurch. At the same moment, a rogue wave washed over the deck of the ship, catching Wes and pulling him over the side of the ship into the crashing waves.

"Wes!" Elle screamed.

Will Turner heard, and gave Elle a suspicious frown, a question in his eyes.

Elle noticed Will's glance, but didn't take time to explain.

Norrington noticed the commotion, and ran over to where Elle and Will were standing. "What's happened?" he demanded.

"Sam's gone overboard!" Elle cried.

Without hesitating, Norrington slipped his coat off and handed it to Will. "I'm going after him," he said.

"That's suicide!" Will cried.

"It'd be murder not to," Norrington replied, looking down into the angry waves.

Captain Sparrow had come up behind Will.

Norrington looked at the captain and said, "Keep to the code." Then he turned and dove into the waves.

The water was shockingly cold, and the waves violent. Norrington scanned the surface of the water for Wes. Visibility was nearly nothing, and Norrington knew it would be a miracle if he found the man. He swam out a little ways, following the current of the waves. It was dark, and still Norrington could not see any sign of Wes. He dove underwater and forced his eyes open, searching for Wes. When he couldn't hold his breath any longer, he surfaced again. He looked around again, fighting the rising fear that he might be too late.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. A blurry patch of white was bobbing up and down in the water. Norrington swam with all his might, and as he got closer, he saw that the white area was Wes's pale face contrasting against the dark sea. He grabbed Wes around the waist and was relieved to find that the boy was still breathing. Norrington turned to go back to the ship.

But the _Black Pearl_ had vanished.

Norrington knew it was useless to try and find the ship. If Jack had kept to the code, the _Pearl_ was long gone by now. If not, it would be impossible to find it in this weather.

Norrington held onto the unconcious Wes, fighting to keep both their heads above water, and trying to decide what to do. They couldn't stay there forever, he knew. Before long his strength would give out and they would both drown. They couldn't go after the ship, either. Their only hope was that the storm would blow itself out soon, and the ship would return, or that there was land nearby.

Both options were highly unlikely.

Norrington was just starting to think that the situation was hopeless, when his foot struck something hard. At the same moment, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, revealing a small island not far off. Praying that he wasn't hallucinating, Norrington held onto Wes and swam with all his might towards the island.

The swim seemed to take hours. For all Norrington knew, maybe it did. At one point, he feared he wasn't going to make it. But then he felt sand beneath his feet, and Wes became heavier as his body was no longer supported by the water.

Using the last ounce of his strenth, Norrington dragged Wes up onto the beach. Then, exhausted, he collapsed onto the sand.

* * *

Reviews are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	26. Chapter 26

"He's gone," she whispered to herself. Her words floated away on the calm wind that was now blowing. The seas had slowed to a peaceful movement; the rain had ceased its relentless downpour.

Elle O'Brien sat at the helm of the ship, head in hands, pondering over the events that had occurred in the past hour. Wes had gone overboard; Norrington had gone over after him. Now they were both gone. She remembered something else too, something about a code…

"Miss O'Brien?" Will Turner's soft voice came behind her. He laid a comforting hand upon her shoulder as her tears began again, making fresh wet stains on her shirt once more.

"It was a sad loss, we tried to look for them, but they aren't there…"

"So try again!" Her panicked voice rang out shrilly. "Keep trying until you find them! Until you find him!" She was screaming now. The crew looked at her with true pity in their eyes.

"Norrington himself said to keep to the code…" Will tried to continue, but was cut off once more.

"Code! Code, code, code, code! What's all this bloody nonsense about a code!"

"It's the Pirate's code," Jack Sparrow's voice said as he himself emerged from the shadows. "If a pirate falls behind, he stays behind."

She looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him silently to renew the search. With a last nod to her, the Captain returned to his cabin, leaving Elle with her emotions scattered across the Caribbean Sea.

A day later as the crew labored mutely, Elle caught a conversation between the Captain and Turner.

"We're making port in Nassau, we need to restock supplies after that storm," that was the muffled voice of Sparrow, unmistakable. She leaned closer into the wooden wall, straining her hearing to catch the next bit.

"Nassau? The East India Company has recently set up a station at the port. If we are to dock there, we are to do it quickly and secretly," Turner inputted, always the sensible one.

"I know a few people who know someone whose uncle's third cousin has his own dock, right in the premier spot of Nassau Port."

"You're sure? We can't afford a mishap, especially with all the…"

What Will Turner was about to admonish Jack about would remain unknown to Elle as she was swiftly pulled to her feet.

"What're you doing, girl?" Gibbs said. "It be mighty suspicious seeing you out and about the Captain's cabin listening through the walls."

"I didn't mean any harm, Gibbs. I was just curious," ever since the storm, her voice had taken on a morose tone that she had failed to get rid of.

"Make sure it don't happen again or the Captain will be hearing of this."

"Yes, sir."

What was he doing? Was he even alive? Was he thinking about her? Her mind raced and she struggled with the effort to slow it down. She kept replaying the incident of Wes falling over board, seeing his terror-stricken face disappear beneath the violent waves. And it was all her fault.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she replied. Will Turner stepped through the door and seated himself in the hammock that used to be Wes's, when he still lived in the cabin with her.

"How are you holding up?" He asked sympathetically.

"As well as can be expected in a situation of mine."

"It wasn't your fault." He had read her mind.

"What?"

"I know what you're doing, you're blaming yourself for his…loss."

"Because I was the one that did it!" Curse the effects of womanhood that caused her emotions to run out of control, she thought.

"No, you are mistaken. It could just as easily have been you."

"Better it had been, because then he would still be here."

"Do you not think he would say the same thing?"

Elle thought about this. Turner could be onto something.

"The fact of the matter remains, Mr. Turner, that Wes is gone."

"I thought his name was Sam, if I remember right," he asked curiously.

Elle tried desperately to hide her shock. She had promised Wes not to tell, and here she was letting it slip in front of Governor Swann's son-in-law!

"I-I mean West. I sometimes shorten it to Wes, it's easier to say." Her red blush spreading rapidly up her neck was soon betraying her. Will gave her one last skeptical look before standing. How could anyone have believed that awful lie!?!

"Good night, Miss O'Brien."

"Same to you, Mr. Turner."

As the door slammed shut, she gave out a long, weary sigh. When had her life gone out of control? Lies spun upon lies began to pile up in every direction. Without Wes, Elle didn't know what she would do.


	27. Chapter 27

Wes opened his eyes. The sun was bright and directly overhead. Wes sat up, noticing that he was sitting on a sandy beach. He was surprised that he had managed to end up here, and not at the bottom of Davy Jones' locker, as he had expected.

Wes wondered where he was, and how long he had been unconcious. Judging from the position of the sun, it was near midday, but how many days had passed since he had been washed overboard? Surely the _Black Pearl_ was long gone by now.

Suddenly, Wes heard a gunshot. He cried out and dove face-first into the sand, covering his head. He cowered there, expecting authorities from England to recognize him and arrest him at any moment.

"Wesley!" someone said. The voice was familiar.

Cautiously, Wes looked up, and was surprised to see Norrington standing a few feet away, looking disheveled and missing his coat, holding his pistol in one hand.

"Mr.Norrington?" Wes asked. "How did you get here?"

"The same way you did," was Norrington's only explanation. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Wes said. "Just a little disoriented. Was that your gunshot I heard?"

"Yes," Norrington said. "I'm sorry if I frightened you."

"What were you shooting at?"

"Coconuts. There seemed to be no other obvious way to get them down."

Wes raised his eyebrows.

"If we're going to be stuck here for any length of time, food is a necessity. The coconuts appear to be the only readily accessible source of food, and their milk is good to drink."

"Oh..." Wes stood up and wandered to the edge of the water, which was much calmer than it had been the last time Wes saw it. "Where are we?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Norrington said, coming up behind him. "I have no way of knowing exactly how far off course we were blown before you were washed overboard, and after that, I could not say how far we swam from our position to reach this island."

Wes sighed and wandered back up on shore. He sat down under a palm tree, next to a small pile of coconuts. Norrington joined him, putting his pistol away.

"This isn't such a bad place to be marooned, actually," Norrington commented.

"Marooned?" Wes cried.

"Well, we can hardly expect the _Black Pearl _to return for us. Chances are she's long gone by now."

"But won't Captain Sparrow come search for us?"

"That's hardly likely. Not if Jack keeps to the code as I would expect him to do."

"Code?" Wes repeated. "What code?"

"Pirates' Code. It states that any man who falls behind is left behind."

"What?" Wes cried. "That's inhumane!"

Norrington shrugged. "Possibly. But it would be worse to risk the entire crew's life to save one man than to risk one man's life to save the crew."

"Maybe. But I still think it's cruel. Who made that rule anyway? Captain Sparrow? What would he think if he were the one who fell behind and his crew left without him?"

"Captain Sparrow is more than capable of taking care of himself. Trust me. And no, he did not write the Pirates' Code. He only adheres to it, more or less, as does every respectable pirate."

Wes sighed, staring out over the ocean. "So we're stuck here?"

"That appears to be the situation, at the moment."

The two men sat in silence for a while.

"Well, it certainly has been a while since I've seen you last," Norrington commented, in an attempt to make light conversation.

"Yes," Wes agreed. "Ten years."

"So, how is your brother?"

Wes turned away again. Norrington couldn't have asked a more awkward question. Wes answered anyway, assuming he owed the man the truth, sooner or later. "He's dead."

"Oh, dear," Norrington said. "I'm sorry. How did it happen?"

Wes hesitated again. Finally he turned to Norrington and said. "If I tell you, you must promise never to tell anyone."

Norrington gasped. "Good Lord, Wesley, you didn't kill him, did you?"

"I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"

"What happened?"

"He was beating an old man. All the man wanted was some money to buy a loaf of bread so he could have something to eat for the day. And Harry hit him! I couldn't just stand there! So I tried to stop him. I pushed him off the old man, and he fell and hit his head. It was an accident, I swear it, but I got scared and ran. I know my father will have men out looking for me. Please, don't tell anyone."

Norrington was silent for a long moment, and Wes waited nervously for a reply.

"If what happened truly was an accident, and you were only acting in defense of someone innocent, the law cannot punish you for your brother's death," Norrington finally said.

"But you don't understand! My father has money, and that gives him power. He'll find a way to have me jailed regardless of the law. He must think that I killed Harry because I wanted the fortune for myself. I want no part of his money, but he would never believe me. That's why I can't go back, even if I wanted to. I'm a fugitive. You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No," Norrington replied. "I won't tell anyone. You have my word."

"Thank you," Wes said, genuinely relieved.

"If your father's men ever do catch you, come to me, and I'll make sure you get a fair trial."

"What can you do? You're not military anymore."

"No," Norrington agreed. "But I still have friends in high places."

Wes nodded. "Thank you," he said. He hesitated a moment before asking, "Sir, I've been wondering, why aren't you in the military anymore? And how did you become a pirate, of all things? I thought you hated pirates."

Norrington smiled slightly, looking out over the ocean. "It is a long and complicated story, involving Jack Sparrow and Will Turner, but I'll try to simplify it for you," he said. "Several years ago, I had the pleasure of pursuing Sparrow and Turner across the Caribbean on one of their exploits. I had all intentions of hanging Sparrow for piracy and jailing Turner for association with pirates. But throughout the grand adventure, Sparrow proved to me that he possessed morals above that of the average pirate. In the end, I allowed him to leave safely, and granted Turner pardon for his crimes.

"Soon after that, it became obvious that authorities back in England were displeased with my decision. I resigned from the military in order to avoid certain awkward inquiries and possible court-martialing. I admit that it was a difficult time for me, and that I became engaged in savage activities such as drunkenness in the disreputable town of Tortuga. One night, I was surprised to encounter none other than Jack Sparrow in a Tortuga bar. His first mate, Mr.Gibbs, was recruiting. I must have been drunk, because I allowed him to hire me.

"Little did I know that I would be caught up in a struggle between Sparrow and the undersea fiend Davy Jones. Will Turner was part of this adventure as well, and he came bringing news of a deal offered by my superiors. A man would be offered a full pardon in exchange for Sparrow's compass, which does not point North, but to whatever the bearer's heart desires most. The offer was quite tempting, and I stole the letter of pardon, filled in my own name, and delivered to Lord Beckett the heart of Davy Jones, which would allow him to have control of the seas. In return, I was restored to my position.

"All was well for a while, until I learned that Sparrow had been eaten by Davy Jones' monstrous beast, the kraken, as a result of my betrayal. Elizabeth, Turner, and surviving members of Sparrow's crew were on a mission to rescue him. I used my power to aid them, and afterwards, I left the military for good. Out of the goodness of his black heart, Sparrow allowed me a position aboard his ship, and I accepted. Throughout all that has happened, I suppose I have come to realize that it is not always the criminal who has selfish intentions. The military offered me nothing anymore. And so I have found my place here."

Norrington stopped abruptly.

Wes stared at him, trying to sort everything out. "Does the military know you've turned pirate?"

"I do not belive so," Norrington said. "And that is why you also must promise never to breathe a word of this to anyone. I am more use to Jack if his enemies think I am simply a slightly mislead ex-Commodore."

* * *

Hopefully, chapter 28 is coming soon. (Hint, hint, ElfLuver13...) Up until now, we've had all the chapters written and it was just a matter of posting them. But ElfLuver13 seems to have put chapter 28 on hold or something. Anyway, you can bug her about it. Thanks for reading, and bear with us, we do plan to finish this story soon!


	28. Chapter 28

Ragetti's voice came from the crow's nest above.

"Land! Land Captain!"

Nassau, in the northern Bahamas, was in sight on the horizon. The crew below cheered, sea weary and ready to set foot on firm land once again, all except one. Elle stood, mop in hand, at the edge of the ship. She had made her decision, and that night she would go to the Captain with it.

* * *

While ale and other drinks were being passed around the galley that night, Elle left quietly so she wouldn't attract any attention. She walked cautiously to her destination, conscious of the last time she had made this same trip. 

She stopped in front of the door to Captain Jack Sparrow's quarters. Knocking on the hard wood, she waited for an answer from the other side. A muffled 'come in' came.

Captain Sparrow sat with his hat pulled over his eyes, feet on his desk, and left hand gripping a bottle of what Elle surmised to be rum. Papers and various maps were spread out over his large oaken desk with a few candles burning slightly, giving the room a shadowy look.

"Miss O'Brien," he looked up, frowning at the look on her face. "What is it?"

"C-Captain Sparrow," she breathed deeply, trying to regain control over her voice. "I believe we are to be making port in Nassau tomorrow?"

"Yes, if all goes well." He took a hearty swig from the bottle of rum in his hand.

"I wish to leave this ship." Sparrow promptly choked on said rum, spewing it across the mass of strewn papers on his desk.

"What? Girl, you can't be serious, did someone do something to you? Why do you want to leave my ship?"

"Personal reasons, Captain Sparrow," she said, casting her eyes downward.

"This is about West then, eh?" He immediately regretted saying it.

Tears pricked her eyes at the mention of his name, even if it was his fake one. Furiously swiping her eyes to regain some dignity, Elle tried uselessly to continue.

"I believe I can't let you do that, Miss O'Brien."

She looked up at him in disbelief, her sadness turning quickly to anger.

"And why not? Do I not have any say over my own life?"

"No need to get angry, this crew cares too much for you. You would have no where to go if we let you leave us by yourself. Besides, your work is too valuable to us, losing two crew members hit us hard enough, and three would just weaken us even more."

"But I-"

"No. My decision is final."

Turning around, and silently fuming, she stomped out of his office. Her mind was in a more passionate emotional state then it was before she went in.

* * *

Elle considered bolting off once the ship docked, but thought better of it. She would have no food or shelter or money, three vital things that the ship provided. Reluctantly, she stepped off the ship and sat down on a barrel. Familiar noises and smells that accompanied ports swarmed around her. 

She looked up as she caught sight of polished shoes and a navy uniform. He was curiously inspecting the ship and looked down at her with disdain. She recognized him immediately as an East India Trading Company officer.

With one last look, he walked away briskly.

* * *

A noisy brawl had just broken out on the staircase as Captain Sparrow and Will Turner walked through the doors of the pub. One of the men was hurtled over the side of the railing and fell inches from Jack's feet. 

"Sorry, lad," he said quickly, stepping over the stilled body. "Better luck next time."

"Jack," Will began. "Are you sure this is the place to look for new sailors?"

"The last time you questioned me on this, we were in Tortuga, remember?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Will said.

"That standing," he paused to step over another body on the floor. "You see the wonderful benefits we have hence received."

Begrudgingly, Will agreed and they both took a seat at a table. Gibbs and some other pirates sat at a table next to them. Jack suddenly noticed two men, fairly tall, watching them from the other side of the pub.

They stood and approached Jack and Will.

* * *

Elle, unnerved by the encounter with the trading officer, moved closer to the Pearl. As much as she hated to admit it, she was incapable of living on her own. Of course, she had survived off the streets for a number of years, but that was the reason she had come to the ship in the first place. She shuddered as she remembered days where she found no food, no source of nourishment and sat starving under some kind of a misshapen shelter.

The warm Caribbean night blew a breeze past her, lifting a single strand of hair to caress her cheek.

Her words were muffled by the sounds of bawdy sailors and their drunken revelry.

"Oh Wes…"

* * *

The two men sat down opposite Jack and Will. Will spared a sideways glance at Jack, and he replied with a surprised look of his own. 

"Gentlemen," Sparrow began, a hand on his pistol. "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Settle there, we don't mean to make any trouble," one man said, his voice a deep and gentle Irish accent. "We heard from… a source, that you be pirates."

"And what of it?" Sparrow shot back immediately.

"We're looking for work."

* * *

Elle looked up from where she had somewhat drifted off and saw the captain returning with Turner and the others. Two new men joined them. 

From the distance away that she was, she could see that they were quite tall in comparison to the other pirates. They stood a head taller than Gibbs, but just maybe an inch over Sparrow's and Turner's heads.

She didn't look forward to the idea of having to become acquainted with two new crewmen, especially not knowing their backgrounds or personalities.

As they got closer, Elle knew her sleep deprived state was causing her mind to play with her. She could have sworn at that very moment on her own honor that the two men with Will and Sparrow were Ned and Fin, her cousins on her mother's side. No, they had stayed in Ireland when her own family sailed over, it couldn't possibly be them.

Standing up with a small yawn of tiredness, Elle turned to acknowledge the Captain and the rest of the crew.

As they were returning to the Pearl with the two new members of the crew, Will noticed Elle stand to greet them.

"Glad to know you decided to stay," Sparrow remarked to her as he passed.

"I have no desire to starve," she replied, hoping to sound reasonable.

"Smart girl. Gentlemen," he turned to the two new crewmen standing next to Turner. "I'd like to introduce you to Miss Elle O'Brien, she-"

"Elle? Ellie? Is that you?" One man cut him off, a look of utter shock played across his features.

"Do you two know each other already? If you do that makes my job a lot easier…" Jack trailed off.

"Ned? And Fin?"

* * *

Well, here it is, chapter 28, compliments of ElfLuver13! Chapter 29 coming soon! 


	29. Chapter 29

It was raining. It had started off as a light drizzle that was pleasantly cool after the afternoon's heat, but then it had increased into a steady rain, then to a downpour that had lasted most of the evening and didn't show any signs of stopping.

Wes and Norrington hadn't had time to put together any sort of shelter, so they huddled together underneath some trees. The trees didn't provide much cover, and soon both of them were soaking wet, cold, and shivering, though neither showed it.

"I should have put up a shelter first thing," Norrington said, apparently scolding himself. "But I was more concerned about food and water."

"I'm all right," Wes lied. "I'm sure this'll stop soon."

Norrington glanced up at the sky. _Unlikely_, he thought. But he didn't want to sound overly negative, so he didn't voice his opinion.

They sat for several minutes longer, then Wes looked out to sea and squinted, then frowned.

"What is it?" Norrington asked.

"I think I see a ship."

Norrington sat up a little straighter and looked out to sea. "A ship? Where?"

Wes pointed. "There. Just to the right of those trees."

Norrington looked hard, and sure enough, there was the faint outline of a ship, growing larger as it drew nearer. "I think you're right," he said, standing up.

Wes and Norrington made their way through the rain to the waters' edge.

"I can't tell what ship it is," Norrington said.

"Could it be the _Pearl_?" Wes asked hopefully.

"It could be, though it's unlikely."

"Hey!" Wes called, waving his arms and running out into the water until he was waist deep. "Hey! Over here! Hello!"

Norrington followed Wes out into the water, squinting through the rain to make out the ship's markings. The ship drew nearer, and figures came into view standing on its deck. Wes shouted even louder, and even Norrington waved. Then, suddenly, he froze.

It was the _Dauntless_.

"What is it?" Wes asked.

"My old ship," Norrington replied. "They'll recognize me."

"What should we do?"

"Let me do the talking. I was kidnapped by pirates, that's where I met you, a fellow prisoner. Then we were marooned here after that last storm. Just follow my lead. Got it?"

Wes nodded.

"Hello there!" Norrington called, walking out farther to meet the ship.

"Hello!" a voice called back from the deck of the _Dauntless_, distant through the rain and wind. "Do you require assistance?"

"Yes!"

Norrington and Wes were hauled aboard the _Dauntless_, and were met by none other than a recently promoted Commodore Gillette.

"Commodore Norrington!" Gillette exclaimed. He took his coat off and draped it over Norrington's shoulders. "You look awful. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little chilled."

"Of course, of course. Come on down below and warm up." Gillette started to lead Norrington away, but then noticed Wes for the first time. "Who's this?"

"Sam West," Norrington replied. "He was captured not long after I was."

"Captured!" Gillette cried. "By who?"

"Those bloody pirates," Norrington said, with such convincing distaste that Wes almost felt nervous.

Gillette scowled. "Yes, those bloody pirates. Sparrow again?"

Norrington nodded.

"I'll not rest until he hangs, then," Gillette promised. "Nobody mistreats an officer of the Royal Navy and gets away with it! Not as long as I'm Commodore!"

_A touch dramatic,_ Norrington thought.

"But never mind that now," Gillette said. "We'd best get you both into dry clothes."

Gillette led Wes and Norrington down below to an empty cabin and provided them with dry clothes and warm blankets. Wes changed his clothes and was surprised at how good the clean, dry ones felt comparted to his wet, dirty ones. He wrapped up in a blanket and sat down on one of the two beds. Norrington sat on the bed across the room, and Wes was surprised that there was actually room to fit two beds into one cabin. This place seemed unreasonably clean and spacious compared to the _Black Pearl_'s less rigorous standards.

There was a knock on the door, and an officer stepped into the room.

"Lieutenant Groves?" Norrington asked.

"Captain now, actually," Groves replied.

"Oh..." Norrington said, suddenly feeling remarkably out of the loop. "Well, congratulations on your promotion."

"Thank you, sir." Groves smiled. "I brought you both some tea."

Norrington nodded, and Groves left the room. Norrington picked up one of the teacups and handed the other to Wes. Wes took a sip of the liquid, and nearly choked on it.

Norrington looked over at him. "Strong, I know. But you should drink it. It'll make you feel better."

Wes took another sip and nearly spat it back out. "How can you stand to drink this stuff?"

Norrington gave a slight smile. "To be honest, I was expecting something a bit stronger, if you know what I mean."

* * *

Updates for Thanksgiving! Now you can give us your thanks by reviewing, for which we will be much thankful.


	30. Chapter 30

Dear future reader,

I have already informed you of the less than desirable circumstances which led to my disagreement with Elle O'Brien. A few days ago, Mr. Turner instructed Elle and myself to engage in a swordfighting duel against each other. I believe he began to sense some of the hostility between us when our attacks were much more aggressive than necessary. If Turner had not stopped the fight when he did, I believe that Miss O'Brien and I may have succeeded in harming each other.

Two days ago, the _Black Pearl_ was hit by another storm. I, in an effort to aid Miss O'Brien, was washed overboard. When I woke up, I found myself lying on a sandy beach with Mr. Norrington. He informed me that the _Black Pearl_ would not still be around, if Captain Sparrow had kept to this Pirates' Code, which states that any man who falls behind is to be left behind. We had fallen behind, and therefore Captain Sparrow could not risk the lives of his entire crew in order to search for two men. So we found ourselves marooned.

Mr. Norrington and I found ourselves alone together on the island, and, naturally, we began to talk. I found myself telling him everything about Harry's death, and was surprised that he took my side. He says that I my act was an act of defense, and that the authorities cannot punish me for what happened. I suppose I am somewhat relieved, having told him, especially since he did not think me a vile murderer. In fact, he promised that if my father's men found me, he would do everything in his power to ensure that I receive a fair trial. Though I am very grateful for Mr. Norrington's offer, I doubt that he has any power left with which to keep his promise.

Mr. Norrington then told me just how he came to resign from the position of which he seemed so proud. Several years ago, he, as Commodore, pursued none other than Captain Sparrow across the seas, along with Mr. Turner. In the end, however, he granted Turner a pardon and allowed Sparrow to go free. Later, however, his actions were questioned, and he resigned his commission in order to avoid awkward inquiries. He met up with Sparrow again, and betrayed him in order to regain his position in the Royal Navy. From there, however, he used his restored position to Sparrow's benefit, then left the military for good and joined Captain Sparrow's crew.

Later that day, as we were still sitting on the island, it began to rain. The downpour was pleasantly cool at first, compared to the hot afternoon sun, but then it became cold. Uncomfortably so, since we had not yet built a shelter for ourselves. As it was raining, I spotted the faint outline of a ship, so we ran out into the water to get the attention of someone on deck. We did, and as the ship drew closer, Mr. Norrington recognized it as the _Dauntless_, the ship of which he had once been Commodore.

We were brought aboard, and found that the ship was now under the command of a Commodore Gillette, a man who had been one of Mr. Norrington's lieutenants, and who seemed to think quite highly of Mr. Norrington. Apparently word of his alliance with pirates has not yet reached the Royal Navy. Commodore Gillette, seeing that we were both soaking wet and chilled to the bone, brought us below deck where we changed into dry clothes. The cabin we found ourselves in was, I thought, unnessicarily luxurious and spacious, compared to my cabin on the _Black Pearl_. Now I am writing this letter while sipping some strong tea that nearly chokes me. However, as Mr. Norrington pointed out, had this been the _Black Pearl_, it would have been rum.

I find myself thinking of Elle O'Brien. The look on her face was the last thing I saw before I disappeared overboard. Her expression was one of shock, naturally, but I also detected fear, and concern. For me? After she tried to run me through? Though, if I am to be completely honest, I miss her too.


	31. Chapter 31

Will watched as Elle conversed happily with the two new members of the crew. She certainly seemed to smile more often, after grieving for so long. Jack came up behind him.

"What would you say if I said we were sailing to Port Royal?" He asked.

"I'd ask you why, since the British Navy has recently set up arms there with the East India Trading Company," Will replied.

"There's a bit of profit to be made there, and I reckon most of our crew could use a bit of time on land. Tortuga is too much of a hassle, and also farther away," Jack reasoned. Will thought, cocking his head to ponder this proposition.

"What kind of profit?" He asked after a few moments.

Jack smirked. "Nothing illegal if that's what you're wondering about."

"Jack, what we're doing is illegal; I don't think anyone cares about that anymore," Will said. "Just as long as we can get out of there safely."

"I'm sure your father-in-law could… help us?" Jack asked.

Will gave him a look. "He's already done so much, and put both his and his daughter's lives on the line."

"That's settled then. We make port in two days," Jack left and walked to his own quarters.

Elle lay in her hammock feeling considerably lighter than she had in days. Her cousins had cheered her up, she hadn't seen them since before her parents died. It was nice to see family member besides her brother, who she was sure was looking for her at this very moment.

Good thing they weren't going to be in Port Royal for a while.

Elle rolled over and tried to fall asleep to the waves rocking the ship. Her dreams were filled with the sound of her brother chasing after her as they were children.

Elle stepped out onto the deck, the bright sunlight hitting her face and making her squint painfully. She brushed her hair away from her face and looked out over the sea.

"Do you miss land?" A voice behind her said. She turned to see the captain walking towards her.

"Not much. Why do you ask?"

"We are making port tomorrow," he answered.

"Where? I thought we were keeping to the seas," she said, a frown on her face.

"Just a short stop at Port Royal," he said. Elle's face went pale.

"Are you all right?" He asked. She nodded slowly. He walked away, not exactly believing her.

She set about to her duties, all the while thinking of her latest predicament. Perhaps she could stay on the ship, offer to guard it? But they would ask why…

"That brush is dry." She looked up to see Ned standing above her. His bulk blocked out the sun and cast his shadow across her. He knelt down next to her and grabbed a brush, scrubbing next to her.

"What's on your mind, Elle?" He asked.

"Nothing, I was just… tired," she answered lamely.

"I know you well enough to sense when you've got something troubling you, Elle. We're cousins."

"I was thinking… you remember John, my brother?"

"Yes. What has he gotten into now?" He asked with a light chuckle.

"He's been looking for me. He wants to put me in a convent, get rid of me," she said, noting his shock.

"And he's at Port Royal?"

"Yes, that is where I was last seen as Elle, instead of as Johnny Fowler. Fowler's been a stow away on a pirate ship for quite some time, as my alter ego you could say," she said, surprising herself and smiling. Ned laughed and continued to scrub.

Despite this lifting conversation, Elle remained restless throughout the night.

The Black Pearl docked in Port Royal the next day. Will left the ship first to collect news. He returned a short while later.

"The East India Trading Company has a strict policy on pirates," he said.

"Yes, I know that, they have a certain tendency to leave impressions," Jack replied, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a "P" branded into his skin. Elle flinched.

"Lord Cutler Beckett resides over the station here; I daresay you've heard of him?" Will asked.

"Beckett and I are acquaintances, yes. The merchant I've come to deal with has promised discretion in the past. If not, forceful tactics can be used," Jack reasoned.

"I hope you know what you're doing Jack, we can't afford to lose any crew members this time," Will cautioned. Elle wondered what he meant by "this time". Had they lost people in the past?

"Yes, yes, we'll be fine. I'm sure dear Elizabeth is waiting for you, now go," Jack told him, shooing him off.

"One more thing Jack," Will said. "Look over there." He pointed to a large ship docked recently a ways down the harbor from them.

"The Dauntless?"

"Norrington's old ship, brings back memories, doesn't it?" Will nodded to him and set off. Jack stared at the ship for a while, and the rest of the crew went back to their duties.

* * *

Here it is, chapter 31! Compliments of ElfLuver13. Agent047 is currently working on chapter 32, which should be up within the week. Reviews are much appreciated, and thanks for reading! Sorry for the wait, but schedule conflicts are annoying, and don't worry, we're not going to abandon this story!


	32. Chapter 32

The _Dauntless_ made anchor in Port Royal a few days later. Gillette had escorted Wes and Norrington ashore, to the office of Lord Cutler Beckett.

"Commodore Norrington," Beckett said, a slightly amused expresion on his face. "Or, pardon me, _Mister_ Norrington, isn't it?"

Norrington gave that odd, half-smile of his.

"And who's this?" Beckett asked, looking at Wes.

"Sam West, sir," Wes answered.

"He was taken captive a short while after I was," Norrington added.

"Taken captive, you say? By who?" Beckett asked.

"Pirates. Sparrow and his lot."

"Oh dear. They took you prisoner, did they?"

Norrington nodded. "They wanted me as a hostage, I suppose. They had hopes of trading me to you for ransom, until they found out I was worth nothing to you anymore. I was marooned on an island shortly before that last storm, along with Mr. West here, and left to die."

"I found him just after the storm," Gillette said, once again ignoring the fact that Wes even existed. "He was soaking wet after the rain, having no shelter. I brought him aboard the _Dauntless_, sir, and let him stay in one of the cabins."

"Very humane of you," Beckett commented.

"Now that the Commodore is safely back home, I believe I will make it my next task to find Sparrow and his crew, and make sure that they all hang." Gillette turned and looked at Norrington. "I promise you that I will not rest until I find them."

"I'm glad you're so determined," Beckett said. "You just might get the job done, unlike your friend Norrington. Bring me Sparrow, Commodore, and I'll have you promoted. Now you'd best be on your way."

"Thank you, sir," Gillette said. With that, he left.

"I suppose you'll be wanting a place to stay," Beckett said, turning that same amused expression to Norrington. "So you might as well stay in your own house. Nobody lives there now, and I trust you'll find it in quite good condition."

"Thank you, sir. I will go there now." Norrington turned to leave, and paused when Wes didn't follow him. "Aren't you coming, Sam?" Norrington asked.

"I'll just get a room in one of the inns, sir," Wes replied. "I wouldn't want to impose on you or anyone."

"I insist. Come with me."

Wes hesitantly followed. When they got outside, he protested again. "Sir, I can't ask you to let me stay in your house."

"Then don't ask. I'm telling you."

Wes sighed. "Thank you, sir."

They walked in silence for a while.

"Sir, during the storm, did you really come in after me?" Wes asked.

"What was I supposed to do, let you drown?" Norrington said simply.

"You could have died."

Norrington said nothing.

"I owe you my life... And you don't even know me that well..."

"Do I have to know someone to save their life? Wes, I would have gone after any man in distress."

They were silent again, until Wes glanced out into the port and saw a familiar ship sitting there. "Look!" he cried. "It's the _Black Pearl_!"

Norrington looked. "So it would seem..."

"What are they doing here?"

"Looking for us, I imagine."

"Looking for us? I thought you said they'd have given up by now."

"Apparently not."

Wes stared out at the ship. "Elle..." he said. "I'm going aboard."

Norrington stopped him. "No you're not. Not unless you want to give yourself away."

Wes gave a sigh of frustration, still staring hard out at the _Black Pearl_. "When can we see them?"

"Not yet. Come on, Wes."

Wes allowed himself to be led to Norrington's house. As they stepped inside, Norrington looked around the front room. "A little dusty," he commented, glancing around again. "Well," he said to Wes. "I might as well show you to the guest room."

Wes followed Norrington upstairs to the guest bedroom. At the doorway, Wes stopped.

"What's wrong?" Norrington asked.

"It's... perfect..." Wes stammered. "It's almost like..."

"Like what?"

Wes shook his head. The truth was that the room with its four-posted bed and wide window reminded him of his old room in England. "Nothing. It's wonderful. Thank you very much, sir."

"If anyone comes to visit... let me do the talking," Norrington said.

"Who are you expecting?"

"No one. But being the former Commodore, returning suddenly after being captured by pirates, I'm likely to draw some attention."

Wes nodded, understanding.

Norrington crossed the room and gazed out the window. "Interesting how it'll be my fault if we hang for piracy. Gillette seems to have learned to hate pirates because of his admiration for me and my strong convictions. He'll have quite an awkward moral decision to make if we're ever discovered."

* * *

Gotta love Gillette and Beckett! Chapter 32 compliments of Agent047. Hopefully the Elf will have chapter 33 ready soon.


	33. Chapter 33

Elle watched as the Captain gave last minute orders to Gibbs, who would be presiding over the ship in his absence. Ned and Fin were nearby mending sails, as they always were. They hardly let her out of their sight and it annoyed her to no end. Even if she had been thinking of running off to find Wes, compliments of the Captain who had told them about him the previous night, she certainly had no possible chance of doing it.

Jack sauntered down the gang plank, disappearing into the warm evening air skillfully. The night was unbearably hot, as they usually were, and mosquitoes swarmed above her head. No, tonight was definitely not a night for escaping, even if the escapee in question was used to the suffocating heat.

...----...

"Will," Elizabeth whispered. She bounded from the porch chair and ran, skirts flying, down the dusty road to meet him. He caught her in his arms, holding her close to him.

"You said you wouldn't return until spring!" She cried, clearly shocked but undeniably elated.

"Change of plans," he laughed at her stunned expression. "What about our son?"

"He is sleeping," she answered. An infant's cry rang out from the house moments later. "Or, was sleeping. He must know you're home."

…----…

Jack nearly tripped over a coconut, mumbling a stream of curses that would have made even Gibbs blush. The merchant was known for keeping his wares hidden deep within the island, better to guard them he always said. Tall coconut trees towered above him, leading straight up to the blood red sky of the Caribbean. The sun was setting fast, too fast.

The longer he kept walking, the more thick and dense the wildlife became. Soon it became a struggle just to get one foot in front of the other. He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached a clearing, devoid of any bushes or fallen coconuts.

A small grass hut covered in palm leaves was in the center of the clearing. Smoke curled ominously from the roof, signaling that the resident was home. Albeit a strange resident, but a resident all the same.

Curiously, Jack glanced down at the tracks leading to and from the hut. Horse hooves and unmistakable boot prints covered the ground. Jack narrowed his eyes suspiciously, still keeping his eyes trained on them while pulling back the thin cloth that covered the entrance of the hut.

"Mr. Sparrow," a voice spoke.

Men from all sides closed in on him, pulling his arms behind him and binding them with rope. He was led further into the hut, where a small, military dressed man stood with his back to him.

"Yes, I was hoping you'd come."

"Beckett? How nice to see you," Jack said pleasantly. He swallowed as he recognized the man standing next to him, leering with a long scar down his face. "And Mercer?"

"Funny you should think to exchange pleasantries with us, Jack. We've come to hang you, that is, unless, you tell us the whereabouts of your ship, so we can hang your crew," Beckett said, his odd voice tinged with venom. Jack stood silently, not answering.

"Take him back to the fort," Beckett ordered.

…----…

By next morning, when Jack had not returned, Gibbs was in a frenzy. Elle watched as he ran about the ship, ordering people to stay calm when he himself was ready to jump overboard.

"I'm sure he was just caught up in business deals and decided to spend the night," Ragetti reasoned. Elle thought this was a good assumption, and casually went back to scrubbing the deck.

"No, no, I know Jack. Somethin's happened. Someone will have to go fetch Turner," Gibbs said worriedly.

"I'll do it," Elle said. Gibbs looked at her.

"Aye, that'll do. I'll expect you back soon," he hurriedly gave her directions to the Turner household and practically shoved her off the deck. Ned gave her a significant look as she left.

It felt strange to be on land again. Elle stumbled a bit at first before finding her footing and setting off. She pulled the large hat over her face; she had only recently begun to wear it again after the storm and the loss of Wes. People shied away from her, steering their curious children away from her and purposefully taking a different route.

Some men cast prying glances in her direction after watching her leave a ship with black sails. They seemed fascinated with the fact that she might be a pirate.

Soon she was walking along a solitary road, narrow and quaint. She relished the slight breeze that blew from behind her, lifting her spirits and unfortunately her hat. She ran down the road after the offending article, coughing at the dust that swirled around her.

When she finally caught it, she looked up to see a friendly looking house with a small barn next to it. The ocean roared from behind the house, giving off a salty scent. This was obviously Will Turner's estate.

…----…

"Who is that?" Elizabeth asked from the kitchen.

"Who? Do we have a visitor?" Will replied. His small son lay in his lap, gurgling happily. Elizabeth appeared at the doorway.

"I think you should go see to it," she said, relieving Will of their son to let him investigate.

Will frowned. Only Gibbs knew where he lived, and Elizabeth would have definitely recognized him. He stepped out of the cool interior of the house, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. It was Elle. He knew it instantly from the distinctly large and ridiculous hat she was now wearing, the one she used to wear.

Something was wrong.

"It's Jack!" She yelled to him, answering his unspoken question. "He never returned."

* * *

This chapter compliments of ElfLuver13. OH NO!!! WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO JACK??? Agent047 will have to go write that chapter. Chapter 34 coming soon!


	34. Chapter 34

The next morning, Wes was surprised when he saw Norrington. The man had obviously bathed, and his face was clean and shaven. His dark hair was no longer unruly, but was tied back in a very distinguished way. For the first time since he had joined the _Black Pearl_, Wes saw Norrington as the lieutenant he had known back in England.

After a light breakfast, Norrington told Wes, "I'm going to pay a visit to Lord Beckett and Governor Swann. It would be advisable for you to remain near the house, although I suppose it would be inhumane to deny you the privelige of exploring the town. Be on your guard, though, and avoid familiarity with any of the crew."

Wes nodded. "Yes, sir."

With that, Norrington left his house and went towards the fort. Before he got inside, however, he noticed Beckett standing outside the jail, speaking to Mercer and several redcoats, and looking immensely pleased with himself. Mentally bracing himself to endure more of Beckett's arrogance, Norrington approached them.

"Ah, Mister Norrington!" Beckett said, as Norrington approached. "What a delightful surprise to see you here!"

"Good morning, Lord Beckett," Norrington replied, pleasantly. "What is going on here?"

"You will be pleased to know that your capture is soon to be avenged. Last night, I had the pleasure of capturing none other than Jack Sparrow."

_Captain!_ Norrington thought. _Captain Jack Sparrow_. Obviously, he didn't voice this sentiment. Instead, he responded with, "Congratulations. Finally these waters will be rid of the dirty scoundrels. You have achieved in one night what I could not achieve in my entire career."

Beckett smirked, basking in the glory of praise. "I'm only doing my job," he said, in false modesty.

"Would you permit me to speak to the prisoner?" Norrington asked. "I have a few choice words to exchange with him."

"Anything for you." Beckett stepped aside, and allowed Norrington to enter the jail.

"I would appreciate it if you would remain outside," Norrington told Beckett. "This is likely to become very... improper."

Beckett nodded, and Norrington disappeared down the stairs to where Jack was sitting, locked up in a cell. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" Norrington said, mimicking the voice of the Navy officer he once was.

"I have no further information to divulge, so if you would just leave me alone with your bloody..." Jack suddenly recognized the man standing before him. "Norrington!"

"Hello, Jack."

Jack frowned. "Norrington, mate, you look bloody awful. What have they done to you?"

"Nothing. I took a bath."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "You smell funny."

"Yes, Jack, I'm clean."

Jack frowned at Norrington for another moment, then seemed to give up trying to fathom the mystery of cleanliness. "Well, don't just stand there, get me out of here!"

"I can't, Jack, not just yet. The military believes I was kidnapped by you and then marooned."

"Denying your crew, are you? Norrington, mate, I thought you were above mutiny."

Although Norrington thought Jack a good man overall, there were times when the pirate really got on his nerves. "Jack. Listen to me. If they think I'm with them, I can help you."

"Pity we don't," a voice said from behind.

Norrington spun around, and found Beckett and Mercer standing there. "I thought I asked you to wait outside," Norrington said.

"We were concerned for your safety," Beckett said, with mock compassion. "This pirate is known to be dangerous." He shot a look in Jack's direction. Jack returned the look with a rogueish grin. "I see now that we were quite mistaken about where your loyalties lie, Mister Norrington."

"With you, of course," Norrington insisted, trying to sound sincere. "I was only trying to trick this dirty thieving wretch into trusting me. I thought he might then reveal to me the location of his crew."

Beckett did not appear convinced in the slightest. "Mercer, lock him up."

:::xXx:::

Wes contented himself with exploring the former Commodore's house until he could stand to be inside no longer. Then he ventured out into the streets of Port Royal. The _Black Pearl_ was no longer docked in the bay, which concerned Wes slightly. Where had they gone?

It was good to be on dry land again, he supposed, especially somewhere other than Tortuga, and under circumstances other than having been washed overboard and marooned. The day was lovely, the sun warm overhead and the sky cloudless. Wes walked through the streets, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells. Soon he found himself in front of the blacksmith's shop, and stood in the street, considering whether he ought to pay a visit to Will Turner.

While he was still contemplating, a window opened upstairs and a face looked out. "Elle..." She stared back at him, wide-eyed. Wes stared stupidly, too shocked to move.

The door of the blacksmith's shop opened, and a man stepped out, followed by several others who appeared to be servants. As the man stepped into the light, Wes saw his face clearly. Forgetting Elle, he darted into the shadows of a nearby alley.

Once he was concealed, Wes leaned against the brick wall, panting and feeling sick. Had the man seen him? He hoped not. Risking a quick peek, he saw the man and his servants moving away down the road, but he didn't relax. Feeling a rising sense of panic begin to overwhelm him, Wes asked himself, what was his father doing in Port Royal?

* * *

Chapter 34, compliments of Agent047. Thanks to all who reviewed, especially Chicaga. We feel so happy to know that you like this story!


	35. Chapter 35

Norrington sighed heavily in the damp cell. Jack looked over at him through their adjacent cells, an amusing light in his eyes.

"So, I'm a dirty thieving wretch am I?"

Norrington narrowed his eyes, his face set in a mask of unreadable features.

"I was trying to save us both. Now, we are both imprisoned and Wes - West is somewhere in Port Royal wandering, about to return home and find me absent because I am here. With you. In this filthy, soiled, and decrepit cell," Norrington finished.

"No need to get touchy, I was trying to help. Gibbs is sure to be looking for us to begin with, or at least me. He still thinks you're dead," Jack explained.

"How pleasant, I'm glad he at least still thinks of me," Norrington spoke, a false cheeriness in his voice. They both looked to the entrance of the prison, hearing steps echoing on the flagstones outside.

A British soldier descended the steps, followed by an all too familiar commodore. The soldier placed a half a loaf of hard bread near the cell's bars, with a tin cup of water. Jack eagerly sat up and snatched the food from between the bars. Norrington sat still, watching the once appraising face of Commodore Gillette accuse him with agonizing silence.

Jack looked from the former commodore to the new one, watching how they seemed to talk without words. Gillette suddenly spun on his heel and left the prison, marching back up the stairs quickly.

…----…

Elle collapsed on a chair in the blacksmith's shop. Were her eyes tricking her? Did she just see Wes walking on the streets below? Emotions welled up inside her. Anger, hurt, loss, love. She had a frightening urge to burst out of the room and find him and not let him go ever again. Another part of her wanted to let him go on his way, if it was him, and never look back. She eventually decided on watching him from her perch in the blacksmith forge's loft.

She jumped back up from the chair again, poking her head out of the window and frantically searching beneath her. He was gone, all she could make out was a mass of people going about their business.

One mass particularly caught her eye. Compared to the drab, common clothing of the people around him, one man stood out looking like a fabulously attired peacock. The rich silks that adorned his corpulence were vibrantly colored, with a hint of gold outlining the edges.

Elle frowned, perplexed at this. Nobles did not usually consort near common people, never daring to be seen within feet of them. She watched as he ordered the servants bustling about him, his face bright red and sweating from the heat.

Elle heard Will call for her from downstairs. She ran down from the loft swiftly.

"We are meeting Gibbs on the Black Pearl," he told her brusquely, trying to tidy up the shop before he left.

"Who was that man? He stepped out of the shop a few moments ago. He looked like a noble," Elle said.

"Just a last minute request, he left something for me to repair. Why?"

"He looked familiar," she told him, following closely behind him as they began hurriedly walking towards the docks. She did not mention how familiar he looked; he seemed to remind her of a certain face that had haunted her thoughts for a few weeks now.

…----…

John O'Brien walked down the streets of Port Royal with a tattered, yellow letter in his hand. The address read clearly, but it simply was not to be found. His sister had described an elegant, small cottage on the edge of town where she was staying with their Great Aunt.

All he had seen so far was a drunkard who tried to hit him, a scantily clad woman who had tried to tempt him, and numerous taverns with bawdy songs and sounds of dangerous brawls emitting from them. Shaking his head, he told himself he must be missing something.

He headed back towards the town, near the docks, hoping to search the other side of the town's outskirts. Admiring the tall ships that had anchored in the docks, he noticed one that stood out from the rest. It was certainly more worse for wear than the others, but it had a sort of rogue beauty about it.

He then recognized it immediately. It was the same ship that had accosted him on his voyage to Port Royal. The Black Pearl and its arrogant captain.

Outraged that such a ship would be docked next to the King's own trade ships and loyal subject's schooners, he changed course immediately to report to the local authorities this ship. It was cleverly disguised, but not so to one who had already met an encounter with it.

In his haste, he bumped into a tall man with a shorter person following behind. The man seemed eager to be on his way, but the second one behind him stopped. Their eyes met and wondered where he had seen them before.

…----…

Elle's heart clenched in fear. Did he recognize her? She had completely forgotten that he was out looking for her. She ran to catch up with Turner again, who was already stepping up the gang plank to board the ship.

* * *

A chapter from the Elf! The space pirate will be finishing the next one soon. 


	36. Chapter 36

Gibbs was pacing. Where was the Captain? Dead or captured, most likely. Jack never should have set foot in Port Royal. Not while Lord Cutler Beckett was there. And where was that girl, Elle? She should have been back by now. How long did it take to say to Will that Jack was missing?

"ALL HANDS ON DECK!"

Gibbs spun around with a cry of surprise. One of the two new recruits stood there. Fin, he thought, though it was hard to be sure.

"Blast, you fool, nearly scared me to death!" Gibbs shouted.

Fin laughed. "If what you tell me about our Captain is true, there's nothing for you to be so uptight about. Unless you were embellishing his accomplishments in an attempt to deceive us into a false sense of security aboard this vessel."

In his state of shock, Gibbs could hardly follow Fin's sentences through the thick Irish accent. "I wasn't embellising anything. If the Captain's not back, that mean's he's in trouble, and if he's in trouble, that doesn't bode well for the rest of us."

"Ah."

"Your cousin Elle hasn't returned yet, either."

"Elle's tough. She'll take care of herself all right. She survived on this ship as a man, didn't she?"

"Aye, that she did," Gibbs admitted. "I still don't like it."

"Gibbs," Will's voice said.

Gibbs spun around again. "Will!" he cried, then threw his arms around Will and hugged him.

Elle's eyes widened, and Fin watched in amusement.

"Is that absolutely necessary?" Will asked.

Gibbs released Will. "Sorry, it's just that I thought you were dead."

Will raised an eyebrow at Fin, who responded with an eyeroll and an impression of a dainty swoon. Elle giggled, and Fin winked at her.

"What's this about Jack?" Will demanded.

"Well, er, he... he's missing," Gibbs said. "We haven't seen him since he left. I was hoping that maybe you knew something, being married to the governor's daughter and all."

Will shook his head. "I've heard nothing."

Fin motioned for Elle to join him, and she did, leaving Will and Gibbs to discuss the situation.

"He seems quite distraught over the Captain's disappearance," Fin commented.

"Who? Oh, Gibbs? Yes," Elle replied absently.

Fin frowned at her. "Something troubling you?"

"I saw him."

"Saw who?"

"Wes. He's alive."

"The one lost during the storm?"

Elle nodded. "It was him, I'm sure of it."

:::xXx:::

Wes sat in the deserted alley until he assumed it must be safe to leave, then he vetured out, carefully checking every corner before he stepped around it. Still panicked, he jumped at every slightest sound or movement. He tried to find his way back to Norrington's house, but since he was so nervous and jumpy, he soon found himself hopelessly lost, and began to panic even more.

Soon Wes found himself facing the docks, searching the water for the _Black Pearl_. If worst came to worst, he could hide there. But now, he looked for someone he could ask for directions. He found a man who looked promising. His back was turned, but he was wearing an officer's uniform, so Wes assumed he must know where the former Commodore lived.

Wes approached the man. "Excuse me, sir," he said.

The man turned around and looked down at Wes. "Yes?"

"I was wondering, sir, could you direct me to--"

Suddenly the man frowned down at Wes. "I know you. Wesley!"

Wes froze.

The man grinned, and suddenly Wes recognized him. His father's clerk, Gravenger. Without waiting for a formal reunion, Wes turned and ran.

Right into the one man he was trying to get away from. His father. Zachariah Silverthorn.

Wes stumbled backwards, landing hard on his backside, and stared up at his father. His father seemed just as surprised to see Wes, but then his surprise turned into a sneer. He reached down and grabbed Wes by the arm.

"What a pleasant surprise," Zachariah said with false sentiment, yanking Wes to his feet. "My lost son has finally been found."

Wes said nothing, too petrified to respond.

"How you managed to elude me for four years I'll never know. You're a weasel, you are. Always have been. But I never imagined you'd stoop to murder."

"I didn't murder him!" Wes cried.

"Liar!" Zachariah dragged Wes away from the docks towards the prison, despite Wes's adamant protests. When they reached the jail, the guards moved aside and allowed Zachariah to pass through with Wes in tow. No questions asked.

Zachariah ordered a cell to be opened, and again, the guards buckled under the influence of a Silverthorn, and opened a cell. Wes was shoved roughly inside, so that he fell, banging his head on the cement wall. Cringing, he looked up in time to see his father slam the cell door shut. Zachariah threw Wes a look that was half-scowl, half-sneer. "You'll pay for your brother's blood." With that, he disappeared.

Wes fell back against the wall of the cell, holding his head. It was a few minutes before he noticed the man in the cell next to him.

"Well," Captain Sparrow said. "That makes three of us."

Wes looked up. "Captain Sparrow!" he exclaimed. "And Mister Norrington!"

"What happened, Wes?" Norrington asked from two cells over.

"My father," Wes replied. "He's here. He caught me."

"Are you all right?"

"He'll have me hanged for murder."

Captain Sparrow gazed at Wes with an unreadable expression. "Murder, eh?" he finally said.

"I didn't do it!" Wes cried. "I swear it! Not on purpose! My brother Harry was hitting an innocent old man, and I pushed him away and he fell and hit his head. It wasn't my fault, but my father is sure I murdered Harry to get his inheritance. He'll have me hanged!"

"You and me both, Mr. West," Captain Sparrow said. "And Mr. Norrington here as well."

Wes stopped, looking back and forth from the Captain to Norrington, realizing that they were all in the same predicament.

"It would be beneficial, I believe, if the three of us were to pool our resources and come up with a way to save ourselves from that formidable fate which faces us all at the gallows."

It hit Wes then that the Captain had called him 'West', his false name. He also realized that if they were to work together, he owed the Captain the truth.

"Captain Sparrow," Wes said, looking at the ground. He felt his pulse accelerate, and the pain in his head got worse. Surely the Captain would be angry when he found out Wes had lied to him. "I must tell you, my name isn't really Sam West. I'm Wesley Silverthorn, son of Zachariah Silverthorn."

Wes braced himself for an explosion of anger, but it never came.

"Oh, I know that," Sparrow said. "I've known for quite some time, actually."

* * *

Agent047 enjoyed writing this chapter, that's why it's so long. Next chapter coming soon, and reviews are greatly appreciated!


	37. Chapter 37

Elle listened to Gibbs and Turner talk. Fin had gone back to his duties and had left Elle to her thoughts. She guessed she should probably be doing something useful, but being at dock most chores and jobs were not needed.

While staring down into the clear water below, something caught her out of the corner of her eye. She watched numbly as a man asked a soldier something, and then turned to run. However, said man ran right into someone who was much larger than he, causing a fall.

By now, the actions of the three had grabbed attention from onlookers. As several British soldiers moved in to grab the man and take him away, his face turned towards her and she gasped audibly, gripping the sides of the ship until her knuckles turned white. It was Wes.

"Help! He needs help!" Elle frantically shouted.

Will and Gibbs turned to her and stared, Fin looked at her concernedly from the riggings, and the rest of the crew paused in their duties as well.

"What is this, Miss O'Brien?" Gibbs asked, regarding her as one would regard a mentally ill person.

"West! He's been taken captive, I just saw him!" Instantly, Will and Gibbs moved closer to her. She just barely remembered to use West instead of Wes, a habit she had not easily broken. "He was speaking with a soldier when he recognized, and his father had him taken away to the jail."

"Why would West be wanted by the law? And what is this business of his father?" Will asked, suspicion and curiosity showing in his dark, thoughtful eyes.

Elle swallowed nervously. Should she tell them? It would help Wes, but she had promised not to tell, or, had not told for fear of him disliking her more for it. She made her mind quickly.

"He… he is wanted for murder. But it was an accident!" She added quickly. The crew's eyes widened and Elle groaned inwardly. "Mr. Turner, Mr. Gibbs, may I speak with you privately?"

"I think that would be best," Gibbs said, leading them below to the captain's office.

::xXx::

"_Fifteen men on a dead man's chest  
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum  
Drink and the devil had done for the rest  
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum…"_

"Jack, will you _please_ stop singing?" Norrington asked, for the fifth time. Wes smiled, knowing how much the former commodore abhorred common folk songs, and ironically those about pirates, especially when the singer is less than satisfactory.

"Suit yourself, I was only trying to cheer this place up. There's no rum, after all…" Jack sighed.

"It's a prison. It's not supposed to be cheery. It's not supposed to have rum!" Norrington shouted the last bit at him, breathing heavily and his hair mussed. Quickly he composed himself again, seating himself back down and returning his breathing to normal.

"Do you hear that?" Jack asked suddenly.

"What? Silence? I do, and I enjoy it immensely," Norrington retorted.

"No, no there's someone coming, on the stairs," Jack put his face next to the bars, cocking his head while trying to discern for any sound. Norrington rolled his eyes.

Moments later, Gillette appeared on the stairs. He walked to where he was facing the three of them in their cells and stood.

"Gillette, how nice of you to drop in, can I offer you rum? No, wait, I don't have any, now I remember, it's a bloody prison!" Jack said to him. Norrington shot him a look that clearly said to remain quiet.

"Gillette, what brings you here?" Norrington asked him, his tone returning instantly to that of a navy commander. Gillette remained silent for a while before speaking.

"I came to see you. I have been quite curious as to how you ended up here and it has caused me considerable lack of sleep," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"That's surprising Gillette, especially of you and you sense of devotion to duty," Norrington remarked.

"Odd, I once thought the same about you," Gillette replied. "I came to help because even though you've joined…" he paused, casting a disgusted look towards Jack, "_them_, I still admire you. I know that somehow you were doing good in it all, and you don't deserve to be incarcerated just because of an old grudge between you and Beckett. Which is exactly why you are being jailed, Beckett had no reasonable evidence to put you here."

Jack looked at Gillette appraisingly. "Now that's something I did not expect." They ignored him.

"Gillette, you need to disguise yourself and get down to the docks. Find the _Pearl_, and speak with Gibbs and Will Turner. They will help you devise a plan to get us out of here," Norrington told him carefully. Gillette nodded as any obedient soldier would and went off immediately.

::xXx::

Beckett listened intently as the Irish man described the ship. His eyes darted from the man to outside the window by the docks.

"Mr. O'Brien, is it?" Beckett asked. The man nodded. "Mr. O'Brien we appreciate your help, and you will be rewarded handsomely when the offending ship is found."

The man smiled and nodded, pleased with himself. Outside the office, there was another who was not so pleased. Gillette listened to the man's description and realized it was the _Pearl_he was describing. He sped off faster than before and made his way to the ship, hoping he could get there in time to warn them of the impending danger.

::xXx::

"And that's all. I know nothing more about Wesley Silverthorn," Elle told them, nervously clutching her hands together and putting them in her lap.

"You say Norrington knew of this?" Turner asked. Elle nodded. The door to the captain's office burst open, and Fin stood there gasping for breath.

"Mr. Turner, Mr. Gibbs, a certain Commodore Gillette informed me that he has things to discuss with you, but first the ship must be moved to a safer place. Beckett knows where the ship is docked; he'll be coming anytime soon," Fin said. Gibbs jumped to his feet, running above deck and shouting orders. Elle could feel the ship lurch a short time after as the ship pulled out of the harbor.

::xXx::

Gillette walked into the small, somewhat cramped office, taking the seat offered him by Turner.

"I was sent by James Norrington. He said that you were who I was to speak to as for arranging an escape for him and his… comrades," he spoke.

"Aye, we can do that," Gibbs answered, having returned from giving the crew orders. The ship was know safely anchored behind a rocky cliff, out of site of any patrolling navy ships or East India Trading Company vessels.

"I came here under disguise; my commanding officer does not know where I am or what I am doing. I am willing to help however I can, to an extent," he said.

"I was thinking we could sneak some of our men into the jail, while others stand guard. You would be most helpful in securing keys to the locks," Will said. "It is simple, but that is what makes it brilliant. They will not expect us to go for something that is so easily identifiable."

"That would work, and it would not compromise my honor," Gillette said, musing to himself. "Yes, I can do that. You would then stand guard outside the prison? With how many men?"

"At least three, and two will enter into the jail to free our captives. It can be done at night, when there are less guards about and enough darkness to help shield our doings," Will answered.

"Agreed." Gillette shook hands with Will, and they settled on carrying out the plan the next night.

::xXx::

"I-I swear it was here! I swear it!" John O'Brien looked frantically up and down the docks. "It couldn't have just disappeared," he muttered to himself.

"Mr. O'Brien," Beckett began, the pleased smile had long since left his face, "I would like it if you would not waste out time. We are busy men with important things to do. Now, do you know where the _Black Pearl_ is, or not?"

O'Brien stuttered for a few more moments before once again shaking his head in consternation. Beckett sighed disappointedly and signaled for the men to head back.

* * *

The Elf enjoyed writing this chapter, and she is sorry that it took so long. We are on Spring Break now (YES!) and hopefully the Space Pirate will have the next chapter up soon!


	38. Chapter 38

Gillette looked over his shoulder, checking for the thirty-seventh time to make sure he wasn't being followed. He stepped into Will Turner's house, and was greeted by expectant faces.

"Well?" Gibbs spoke up. "Did you get us the key?"

Too nervous to speak, Gillette simply held out the key.

Will took the key and looked it over. "Thank you," he said. "You've done more than enough for us, so your involvement ends here. Otherwise you risk your career and your neck."

"I'll notify the prisoners to be ready," Gillette offered. "But that's all I can do."

Will nodded, and Gillette hurried out the door.

::xXx::

_"We're devils, we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"_

"Captain Sparrow, _please_," Norrington said. "You're giving me a headache."

"Well, if I can't have any rum, I ought to be allowed some pleasure!" Jack argued. "After all, we're scheduled to be hanged tomorrow."

"Thank you for the reminder. I had quite forgotten."

"You're welcome."

_Hanged_. The word rang through Wes's troubled mind like an echoing death sentence. He'd been in trouble before. He had been forced to endure countless beatings from his father, endless ridicules from his brother, and then mortal danger during hurricane force storms on the pirate ship, as well as being marooned on an island. Even so, he had never been so desperately scared in his life.

"So, James," Jack said.

Norrington cringed. "Don't call me James."

"Jamie, then," Jack decided. "Where's your friend, the illustrious Commodore Gillette?"

"I don't know."

"He sounded as though he was going to help us," Wes spoke up, hopefully.

Jack narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How do we know he was telling the truth? Perhaps he's in cahoots with our beloved friend Beckett and is plotting to capture our would-be rescuers."

Norrington rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Let me tell you something about our illustrious friend Gillette. He couldn't tell a lie if his life depended on it. He's honest, and a bit foolish. Those two traits hardly make for a skilled liar."

"Then aren't I lucky I'm not an honest fool?" Jack commented.

"Gillette will help us if he can," Norrington continued. "I only hope he doesn't make the same mistake I did..."

Norrington had scarcely spoken when Gillette entered the room. All three of the prisoners looked up in surprise, then in hope.

"Turner and his lot are on their way," Gillette said. "Once they get you out, you'd better hurry to your ship and get out of here. Beckett has eyes and ears everywhere."

"In that case, you'd better be careful," Norrington warned.

A door opened at the top of the stairs, and footsteps were heard. Taking one last look at his former superior, Gillette darted off so he wouldn't be seen.

A moment later, Elizabeth Turner stepped into the jail, carrying her young son wrapped up in a blanket. Wes wondered why the young mother had decided to bring her child into a prison, but then Elizabeth pulled back the blanket, and Wes saw the baby's small fingers wrapped around a ring of keys.

"Elizabeth!" Norrington exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"Shh," Elizabeth said, unlocking Norrington's cell. "They would hardly suspect the governor's daughter to be a threat, especially not while carrying her child."

Norrington took the baby from her while she unlocked the rest of the cells. "He's a beautiful baby," he commented. "Looks just like his father."

Elizabeth smiled. "His name is James," she said, taking the baby back. "James Turner. We thought another William would be too confusing."

Norrington returned Elizabeth's smile with his own odd half-smile.

"You'd better get out of here," Elizabeth said. "Will and Gibbs are waiting outside dressed as guards. They'll show you back to the ship."

"_My_ ship," Jack clarified.

Norrington rolled his eyes and hurried up the stairs and out the door with Jack and Wes close behind. Will Turner and Gibbs were waiting right where Elizabeth said they would be, dressed in red uniforms. Motioning to keep quiet, Will led them along Port Royal's streets towards the docks where Gillette was waiting with a rowboat to take them out to the _Black Pearl_.

"Gillette, are you sure you should be doing this?" Norrington asked, concerned. "You could be caught."

"No one even knows you're gone yet," Gillette argued. "And I wanted one last chance to help you, sir."

Ignoring Gillette's formality for the sake of time, Norrington climbed into the boat along with the others.

As Will and Gillette rowed out towards the pirate ship, Wes allowed himself to relax. The rescue had been successful, and now they were just a few minutes from safety. Soon he would be back on the _Black Pearl_, with Elle, and he could finally apologize to her for his anger and explain why he had reacted the way he did.

Suddenly, lights appeared on the shore. Lanterns, carried by silhouttes that belonged to Beckett's men. The shortest of the silhouttes appeared to be Beckett himself. Several rifles fired off, and Wes heard the musket balls whistle as they flew past his head. The boat's occupants ducked, covering their heads.

"You missed!" Jack shouted to the soldiers.

"Quiet!" Gibbs hissed.

"If you know what's good for you," Beckett shouted from the water's edge, "you'll turn that boat around and return to shore immediately. All of you are under arrest for breaking jail, and the rest of you for assisting convicted criminals in escaping from custody. Yes, that includes you, _Commodore_ Gillette."

Gillette paled.

"What do we do?" Wes whispered.

"We'll not surrender!" Gibbs asserted.

"They'll never catch us now," Norrington said. "And it's too dark for them to see to shoot us. Keep going."

"Row faster!" Will ordered.

"Haha!" Jack shouted to the shore, sitting up. "You'll never catch us!"

Norrington yanked him back down. "You're acting worse than a six-year-old child."

Jack only grinned.

"Sometimes I forget why I ever let you talk me into joining your crew."

"Because we make a great team, Norrington, my friend!" Jack exclaimed jubilantly.

The soldiers fired at the rowboat a few more times, but even Wes could tell they had no prayer of actually hitting their mark.

Finally the rowboat pulled up alongside the _Black Pearl_. Ragetti and Pintel were there to help them aboard, and they dropped a rope ladder down for the boat's occupants to climb up. Norrington and Gillette were the last ones left in the boat.

"I cannot thank you enough, Commodore," Norrington said.

"You're a good man," Gillette replied. "I couldn't bear to watch you hang."

"I deserve it, you realize. I'm a pirate." Norrington glanced over Gillette's shoulder, and saw four rowboats approaching, all carrying members of Beckett's army.

"You'd better get back to your ship," Gillette said.

Norrington nodded, and started up the ladder. He paused halfway up and looked back down at Gillette. "What will you do now?" he asked.

Gillette looked back at the approaching rowboats. "I'll turn myself in. What other choice do I have?"

Norrington reached out to Gillette.

Gillette stared at Norrington's outstretched arm in surprise, then looked up at the former Commodore. "Sir, are you suggesting that I join... them? Sir, that's... piracy!"

"What you just did - assisted pirates in springing convicted criminals from prison - was an act of piracy. And you did a fine job of it, if you don't mind my saying so."

Gillette only stared.

"If you stay, you'll risk not only court-martialing, but prison and hanging. I'm offering you a way out."

"I..." Gillette hesitated.

Beckett's rowboats were only twenty feet away. "Surrender!" Mercer shouted. A soldier fired a rifle at Gillette, and just barely missed.

"Are you coming?" Norrington asked.

Gillette took Norrington's hand, and the two of them were hauled aboard the _Black Pearl_, just as the soldiers reached the rowboat. The escapees ducked behind the ship's railing as rifles were fired again and again. Jack shouted orders, and the _Black Pearl_ moved out of the bay. Only when they were a safe distance away did Norrington and Gillette dare to stand up.

Jack moseyed over and scrutinized Gillette, who snapped to attention as if it was a military inspection. Will and Gibbs followed him. Wes stood a ways away, holding Elle's hand in both of his.

"What happened?" Will asked Norrington. "How did you manage to get jailed?"

Norrington rubbed his eyes. "I'll explain in the morning," he said. "I have a splitting headache and I need sleep."

"Sir, where am I to stay?" Gillette asked.

"You may stay with me," Norrington offered. "There is an extra hammock in my cabin."

"Hammock, sir?"

"Welcome aboard the _Black Pearl_," Norrington said.

"Mr. Norrington, sir," Wes interjected. "If Commodore Gillette is to stay in your cabin, then where am I to spend the night?"

Norrington looked from Wes to Elle, then answered, "In your old cabin, I suppose. But just for tonight." Then he turned and led Gillette towards the cabin they would share for the night.

Elle squeezed Wes's hand and smiled, starting to pull away towards their cabin. "Just a minute," Wes said. "There's something I have to ask the Captain."

Elle nodded and released his hand.

Wes approached Captain Sparrow, who was standing at the _Pearl_'s helm, looking content and in control. "Captain Sparrow," Wes said.

Sparrow turned. "What is it?"

"How did you know my name wasn't Sam West?"

Sparrow looked Wes over for a moment before answering. "Wanted poster," he said finally. "Found one bearing your visage. Amazing likeness, even mentioned your eyes."

Self-concious, Wes looked down. "I also wanted to apologize for deceiving you. I shouldn't have lied. I'm sorry, and I'll understand if you want to punish me."

Sparrow looked hard at Wes. Finally he said, "You acted like a pirate. I can hardly condemn you for that."

"Thank you... sir," Wes said. Then he turned and went back to his cabin, where Elle was waiting for him. Elle, who he hadn't seen in weeks and desperately missed.

* * *

Agent047 had way too much fun with this chapter, that's why it's so long. But we hope you like it too! The Elf's next chapter will be the obvious needed romancy reunion between Elle and Wes. Enjoy!


	39. Chapter 39

Gillette followed Norrington, walking as if he were in a dream. After all, this entire crazy thing couldn't be real. Gillette would never have defied his superiors by helping criminals spring pirates from jail. Even if he had, he would never have joined the crew of the _Black Pearl_. He couldn't imagine life outside the military, especially not life as a pirate. He hated pirates, a hatred he had learned from Commodore Norrington.

But Norrington wasn't a Commodore anymore. He was a pirate.

Norrington led Gillette to a small room barely large enough for the two hammocks it held. "These are my quarters," Norrington announced.

Gillette looked around the room, staring, but hardly taking anything in.

Norrington sat down on one of the hammocks. "You take the other hammock," he told Gillette.

Gillette sat down carefully. The contraption hardly looked stable, and he was afraid of hitting his head and falling even deeper into this weird dream.

Norrington, however, seemed relieved and at ease. He took his coat, hat, and boots off, then lay back on his hammock. After a moment, he looked up at Gillette. "Make yourself comfortable," he said. "You look like you could use some sleep."

Gillette still sat tense and rigid, unable to force himself to relax. "Commodore, sir, what really happened tonight?"

Norrington sat back up and looked hard at Gillette. His eyes were world-weary, hardened, and cold, though at the same time they still held an enormous amount of compassion and wisdom. "You came to the same conclusion I have," Norrington finally replied. "That what is lawful is not always right, and what is right is not always lawful."

Gillette gazed at the ground. "Maybe."

Norrington lay back on his hammock and closed his eyes. Carefully, Gillette did the same, though without undressing at all. He fell into a restless sleep while still wearing his boots, hat, coat, wig, and full brocade.

xxXxx

Wes walked back to his cabin, his old cabin, with a decision made. He had been thinking about it, hoping that he wasn't rushing into something too quick. As soon as he entered the familiar small room, he was met with a tight hug. Elle buried her face in him and started to mumble something.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything," they sat down on a hammock, Wes moving to wipe the tears that began to fall.

"What do you need to be sorry for?"

"I was rummaging through your stuff, and I practically caused you to fall overboard…" her voice grew more miserable with each word.

"The fact that you helped me pack was a good deed, and I would have done the same thing. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you for that. And you couldn't help the accident, don't blame yourself," he murmured, soothing her. She looked at him, and he felt that twinge that he had when he had seen her for the first time. That need to protect her, and care for her.

"Thank you," she whispered. He kissed her softly, feeling how much he had missed her when he was away.

"There's something I need to ask you," he said. "It may be sudden, but do your best." He slid off the hammock, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his. "Elle O'Brien, will you marry me?"

Elle sat with a look of shock on her face. She seemed to be thinking, pondering something. Wes worried for a moment that she might refuse.

"Yes!" She joined him on the floor, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him everywhere. He laughed, pulling her back on the hammock to sit with him.

"I know we don't have a ring, yet, but I'm almost positive Jack will do the ceremony," he said.

"If he's sober enough…"

The door to the cabin burst open suddenly, and Jack himself lay on the floor in front of them. Gibbs and some others stood around the doorframe as well. It was obvious they had been listening.

"What's this? I love weddings! Drinks all around!" He seemed to realize where he was then, and stood up hastily to make his exit. Elle shook her head, an expression of disbelief on her face before turning back and curling up into Wes, who was laughing at Jack's antics. Elle began to sing softly before drifting off to sleep.

"Yoho, yoho, a pirate's life for me…"

* * *

Short chapter, but hope you liked it! The Space Pirate wrote the part about Norrington and Gillette, and the Elf wrote the part about Elle and Wes. An epilogue is coming soon! 


	40. Chapter 40

_3 months later_

Dear future reader,

So much to tell! After being rescued by Commodore Gillette, Mr. Norrington and I were taken to Port Royal. Not long after, however, Mr. Norrington was jailed for piracy, along with Captain Sparrow, who had arrived on the _Black Pearl_ with the rest of the crew. I was also arrested, by my own father, for the murder of my brother.

It was only thanks to Commodore Gillette that we escaped, barely. Lord Beckett nearly apprehended us as we were boarding the _Pearl_. Mr. Norrington even convinced Commodore Gillette to join our crew, to avoid the punishment Beckett was undoubtedly planning.

That night, I saw Elle again, and we were allowed to share our cabin for the sake of poor Gillette, who was taking my place in Mr. Norrington's cabin. After exchanging apologies, making amends, and realizing that we both still loved each other, I decided to ask the question that had been on my mind since I first saw the _Black Pearl_ in Port Royal.

I asked Elle to marry me.

She has been Mrs. Elle Silverthorn for three happy months now. Captain Sparrow performed the service, which was effective, if a little less than traditional. At the end, instead of the anticipated "kiss the bride" conclusion, Captain Sparrow declared, "Now you're married! Drinks all around!"

And there were. Captain Sparrow and his crew made complete fools of themselves all night. Ned and Fin, Elle's cousins, were quite a sight, dancing and singing Irish tunes. Even Mr. Norrington and Will Turner indulged themselves, though not nearly enough to become as senseless as their fellow crew members. Needless to say, they were the only two not regretting it the next day. Elle and I found it quite amusing that Captain Sparrow's hangover forced him to leave Mr. Turner in charge of the ship for a day.

As for the future, who can say what lies ahead? I nearly fell overboard the other night when Elle mentioned the possibility of children, until I saw the twinkle in her eye and realized she was joking. Or was she? Maybe someday it would be nice to settle somewhere and have a family. But for now, we're content to remain as members of the crew of the_ Black Pearl_.

I no longer fear my father, knowing that my Captain, fellow crew, and my new wife will back me up in any trouble he tries to bring upon me. And Elle doesn't look over her shoulder, anxious that her brother will send her to a nunnery. She's a married woman now, free from any authority her brother had over her.

When I left my father's house, I left behind wealth, status, and a life of comfort. And yet, I do not want for anything. This is where I belong. Here, on the _Black Pearl_, with Jack Sparrow as my Captain and Elle O'Brien as my wife.

* * *

We hope you've enjoyed this story! We certainly enjoyed writing it, and we're sad to see it end. Drop a review and tell us what you thought of it!

- _Agent047 and ElfLuver13_

_An Elf and a Space Pirate_


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